m-.^- 











Qass. 
Book. 



LECTURES 



ON 



SCRIPTURE FACTS 



BY THE R3EV. 

WILLIAM BENGO COLLYER, D.D- 



■■ Monumentum are perennius, 

Regalique situ Pyramidum altius: 
Quod non imber edax, npn Aquilo impotens 
Possit diruere, aut innuraerabilis 
Annorum series, et fiiga teroporum. 



<^- 



HOR. 



boston: I 

PRINTED AND SOLD BY SAMUEL T. ARMSTRONG, 

No. 50, CORNHILL, 

1813 



^0 5U 



/ 



TO THE 
RIGHT HONOURABLE 

THOMAS LORD ERSKINE, 

LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR. 

My Lord, 

IF flattery be essential to a Dedication, I shall 
never write one: but in the present instance I have the 
satisfaction of believing that an attempt at adulation 
vsrould be as disgusting to your Lordship, as I feel it 
would be unworthy the dignity of the subject of this 
volume, and degrading to me as a minister of the sanc- 
tuary. It would be easy to tell your Lordship that 
I admire your talents, and that the world admires them 
too: this would not be adulation; but it would be a 
tribute unconnected with the cause of Christianity, and 
I shall therefore wave it altogether. Permit me, then, 
to remind your Lordship, that you descend from 
an ancient and noble House, which piety has dis- 
tinguished as well as rank; and that in various 
branches of your family, religion has shed a lustre 
more dazzling and more glorious than the radiance of 
nobility. Providence has placed your Lordship high 
in the sphere of society; and it is in your power to do 
much to serve the cause of revealed truth. With the 
confidence inspired by your public and admirable de- 
fence of Christianity; and with the affection kindled 



by the distinguished honour I have enjoyed in the 
friendship of an illustrious Relative; I presented, in an 
early stage of this work, an outline of it to your Lord- 
ship, and received from you a note, authorizing me to 
assume the sanction of your name in the eyes of the 
public, and expressing, in your own energetic language, 
your persuasion of the infinite value of "Revelation, 
without whose hopes and consolations, all human dis- 
tinctions are nothing." Under these auspices the 
work was carried on, and is now brought to a conclu- 
sion: and I have the honor to present to your candor, 
with my most grateful acknowledgments, the offspring 
of your own indulgent patronage. It is my sincere 
and earnest desire, that the power of that Religion, the 
evidences of which your judgment approves, may be 
the consolation of your heart; that its influence may- 
shed a divine light upon the elevated orbit in which 
you move; and that its unfading honors may be 
your future recompense, when the distinctions of rank 
shall indeed be lost, and when the only nobility allow- 
ed will consist in an alliance with him, who in the 
days of his pilgrimage upon the earth, had not where 
to lay his head. 

I have the honor to remain, 

with high consideration^ 
My Lord, • 
Your Lordship's much obliged 

and most obedient servant, 
WILLIAM BENGO COLLYER. 

BlACKHEATH-Hill, Feb. 6, 1807. 



PREFACE, 



IT would be an unprecedented act, to send into the 
world, without a preface, a work of the magnitude of 
this volume; add 1 am glad to avail myself of the per- 
mission and of the opportunity which custom not 
merely allows, but prescribes, to say something respect- 
ing the succeeding Lectures, before they are aismissed 
-o the candor of the public, which could not be said 
in the course of their delivery. 

The history of the publication is simply as follows. 
It was suggested to me about live years since, in a 
cursory conversation, that it would be a desirable 
thing to produce a confirmation of the facts recorded 
in the sacred writings, from contemporary historians, 
so far as these could be obtained; and where the re- 
moteness of scriptural narrations stretched beyond the 
chronology of heathen compositions, to adduce such 
fragments of antiquity as time has spared to us, so far 
as they bear any relation to events transpiring at the 
earliest periods. It was justly observed, that while 
many and successful efforts have been made, and are 
daily making, to elucidate and defend the doctrines 
and the precepts of Christianity, the fiicts recorded in 
the Bible have not been placed in the same advanta- 
geous point of view. Some have perhaps been deter- 
red by the toil necessary to collect such testimonies, to 
select from the mass evidences which are more prom- 
inent than others, and to discriminate such portions of 
heathen records as mingle truth with rable,— to detect 



and expose the one, and to produce and enforce 
the other. It is also probable that not a few have de- 
clined to adventure upon this plan, because it is so un- 
like the usual and popular modes of pulpit discussion. 
Thus while the citadel of revealed religion has been 
ably and zealously defended, the out- works have been 
abandoned, or at least overlooked; and the posts 
where some veterans of old times fought, have, since 
their removal by death, remained unfilled. Upon re- 
volving this conversation in my mind, I felt that the 
remark was important, and I began seriously to think 
of undertaking the proposed discussion,just so far as it 
might be useful to my own congregation, and would 
not interfere with the other arrangements of my min- 
isterial labors. My fust object was to discover by 
whom the ground had been trodden before me. I 
well recollected that Grotius had expressly set apart a 
portion of his treatise on the Truth of the Christian 
Religion, to the consideration of Foreign Testimonies: 
and in that useful little volume will be found many 
of the authorities produced in the following pages. 
But Grotius has written in Latin, and is not, therefore, 
accessible to an Eiiglish reader. He has been trans- 
lated; but the plan proposed forms a very small part 
of his production; and the whole work can only be 
considered as an epitome of the Evidences of Chris- 
tianity, where the principal arguments in its favor are 
enumerated and stated, but never dilated, and seldom 
more than barely named. Various have been the 
productions which tend to this point, under the sanc- 
tion of such illustrious names as Prideaux, Lardner, 
Briant, Stillingfleet, Pearson, Doddridge, and others. 
Bvit these all enter only into a part of my scheme; 
they elucidate a particular portion of the sacred writ- 



ings, or advert in general terms to the stability of the 
whole. Above all it appeared to me that there was 
yet wanting a work, which might interweave foreign 
testimonies to the truth of Scripture history, with the 
discussion of the history itself; which might admit gen* 
eral and important remarks with a selected subject; 
and which might relieve the barrenness and languor 
of mere discussion, and of a series of extracts from 
heathen writers; by assuming the shape and the ardor 
of pulpit and popular addresses. Such was the design 
of the Lectures now submitted to the public, and it 
would ill become me to conjecture how far I have 
succeeded in filling up the outline. The plan was 
sketched for the use of my own congregation; and 
delivered in my own pulpit. It was afterwards desir- 
ed by some, who perhaps thought too favorably of 
the execution, that it should be brought into a larger 
circle; and the Lectures were accordingly delivered 
during two winters in London. By the importunity 
of the same persons, the work is now committed to the 
press; and time must decide (while I anxiously wait 
its decision) whether I have done well or ill in yielding 
my private opinion of the demerits of the execution, 
to their flattering prepossessions in favor of its utility. 
Respecting the work itself, I have little to add to 
the remarks which will be found to introduce the first 
Lecture, Using freely different writers, I have also 
candidly acknowledged my obligations to them. I 
have carefully read over, and have endeavored faithful- 
ly to tranbl-tte the passages produced from antiquity; 
and separating them from the body of the work, I 
have preserved their original form for the use of the 
scholar who may choose to hear them speak their own 
language, and yet might be unwilling to take the troub- 



8 

le to hunt them down through various works, in notes 
at the end of each Lecture. I have subjoined a list of 
the names of the principal writers quoted in this work, 
and have placed over against their names the periods 
in which they flourished. The list of errata in the 
work appears large, but will be found in few instan- 
ces to affect the sense: the principal errors in it are the 
substitution of one Greek letter for another in various 
instances. I will venture to affirm that its magnitude 
has not arisen from my indolence; and the candid 
Reader will know how to make allowance for imper- 
fections in sendins: out such a volume as the succeed- 
ing one, especially when the correction of the press 
rested with myself alone; and w^as performed amid 
weekly and daily, public and private, pressing engage^ 
ments.* I expect to de ive much advantage from our 
public organs of criticism; and to candid criticism, crit- 
icism such as it ought always to be, willing to allow 
a merit as well as a defect, to point out a beauty as 
well as a fault, I shall always bow with respect, and 
shall always, be happy to avail myself of its corrections 
and of its advice. If I could write a faultless volume, 
I must possess more than human powers: if I have pro- 
duced one which shall be useful to the cause of truth 
and religion (and such was my design,) I shall rejoice 
in my general success; and, I hope, be willing to listen 
with gratitude to the candor which discovers to me 
where I have failed. 

w. B. e. 

Blackheath-Hill, MarchQO, 1807. 

• It was judged urinecessary in this edition to print the notes in their 
original form; but a translation of all of them and refferences to the ori- 
gJnaU will be found, either in the Lectures where the quotations are 
made, or in their order at the end of the volume. The Errata mentioned 
above have been carefully corrected in this edition. Am. En. 



CONTENTS. 

LECTURE I. 

PAGE 7—41. 

INTRODUCTORY THE NECESSITY OF A DIVINE REVEJLATION. 

Job, xi, 7 — 9. — Apology for the undertaking. Statement of the plan of 
the Lectures— Mode of discussion proposed, by an appeal to the heathen 
■world---Their ignorance of the nature and attributes of God — Commence- 
ment of man's errors—Source of polytheism -Rise of image-worship— - 

Visible objects-'-heroes'-benefiiCtors- deified-"Impurtty of their wor- 
ship-Sacrifice of human victims-- Contrasted with Chvistianity-Their 

civil insiitutions- their defective morals-- their systems too refined foi" 
the multitude- Universal adaptation of Christianity- -Tlieir uncertainty 
respecting the future, instanced by Homer and by Paul at Athens - Rev- 
elation has removed these difficuUies---lnfidelity anticipates annihilation-- 
Objeclions against Revelation refuted-- State of man without it deplora- 
ble—expectation of Socrates--Revelation possible, probable, found in the 
Bible alone. 

LECTURE II. 

PAGE 42—74. 

THE CREATION — -THAT THE MOSAIC ACCOUNT OF IT IS THE ON- 
LY RATIONAL ONE WHICH WE HAVE RECEIVED. 

Gen. I. 1. — The province of sense, of reason, and of faith--Incite- 
ments to inquire into the origin of all thing$.--all ages have attempted 
it--The several opinions of mankind reduced to Two — First that the 
world was produced by chance---exaralned on acknowledged principles 
-refuted by Cicero --Appeal to the human frame, and the conversion of 
Galen — Hypothesis of the Egyptians---a disfigured copy of Moses— hypo- 
thesis of modern philosophy — Secorud opinion, that the world is eternal— 
By whom held— Refuted by the world's mutability — byj philosophical 
and astronomical laws— by history^— by the arts and sciences — by the or- 
igin of nations — Objection raised from some recent discoveries in volca- 
nic irruptions considered — tradition of the creation universal— The being 
of a God inferred, and our connexion with him exhibited — Mosaic ac- 
count of the Creation — Dr. Geddes — Light created — Longinus — Work 
of the six days — Inquiries answered — respecting primeval llght-^astron- 
my—extent of the Creation — the six days — the information of Moses- 

LECTURE III. 

PAGE 75—103. * 

THE DELUGEi 

Gen- VII, 11 — 24. 2 Pet. hi, 5 — 7. Ruins— apostasy of man— prp^ 
gressofvice — antediluvian longevity — Union between the sons of God 
and the daughters of men— Giants— State of the world at the time of the 
Deluge— Plan of the Lecture— The fact established— By the general 
consent of all nations — Testimon^s of Abydenus— Berosu-Oj LMcian-^re- 

2 



10 CONTENTS. 

mark of Grotius — By the existence of marine productions on land— Hy- 
pothesis of volcanic irruptions examined — objections of Buffon and others 
opposed — Hypotheses of Burnet, Whiston, M. de la Pry me, and St. 
Pierre stated — Effected by Divine interposition—Objections, respecting 
the ark, America, infants, and the rainbow, answered — Improvement — 
a|)peal to the last judgment. 

LECTURE IV. 

PAGE 104—131. 

THE DESTRUCTION OF BABEL, THE CONFUSION OF LANGUAGE, 
THE DISPERSION OF THE PEOPLE, AND THE ORIGIN OF NA- 
TIONS. 

Gen.xi, 1 — 9— Obadiah, 3 & 4. — Noah's minglfed emotions, of pity, 
of gratitude, and of faith — The fear of man impressed upon brutes, and 
the Jaw for murder — Noah's failing — his death — genealogy of his des- 
cendants-— his predictions — Nimrod — the original tongue- — Situation of 
Shinar—- Building of Babel — its design and form — Imagery of the Bible 
— Confusion of language, what? — Dispersion of the people, how effected 
— Origin of nations — supposed — uncertain — Ancient testimonies — Fable 
of the giants — one of the Sybils — Abydenus — Inquiries — whether the at- 
tempt was criminal? — whether man would have separated without a 
change of language? — whether language would have changed without a 
miracle? — Improvement — Our errors spring from the pride of our hearts 
=— appeal to Nebuchadnezzar and to Belshazzar — Prosperity ofien ex- 
cites rebellion— There can be no security when God is our enemy . 

LECTURE V. 

PAGE 131,-163- 

THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM AND GOMORRAH. 

Gen. xix. 15 — 26. 2 Pet. ii, 6. — Domestic scenes of Genesis — con- 
trasted with profane writers— the patriarchal tents welcomed — Abraham 
introduced — Idolatry of his country — triumphs of faith — titles of Abra- 
ham — his infirmity in Egypt — his memorials of gratitude — his separation 
from Lot — the battle of Siddim, and Lot rescued — Melchisedec — Inter- 
view with Jehovah — Religious worship to be guarded — Domestic con- 
lention-'Hagar's flight — predictior^ respecting Ishmael — Circumcision, 
and Abraham's name changed — Three angels visit him— God reveals 
his designs against Sodom, and Abraham pleads for it — Two angels visit 
Lot — Danger threatens the city in the morning — Lot hastened—is sent 
to the mountain— objects — pleads for Zoar- -obtains his request— The 
dtstruction of Sodom sudden-.how effected— the Dead Sea — Lot's wife 
— Testimonies of Tacitus, Philo, Pliny," Diodorus Siculus, Strabo, and 
Solinus, to this fact — Modern writers — Evidences remaining on the spot 
—Representations of the Bible concerning its appearance in different 
ages — correspondent features remain — testimony of Josephus --Changes 
supposed to be effected by time, and iheir immediate causes --The sub- ^ 
ject improved—Judgments delayed will yet be executed— The righteous 
are always safe. 



J 



CONTENTS. 1 1 

LECTURE VI. 

PAGE 164-^191. 

THE HISTORY OF JOSEPH. 

Gen. xlix, 22—26. — Acts vii, 9- 16.— Intervening" history slightly 
touched" -Sacrifice of Isaac — Death of Sarah-Subsequent events enumer- 
ated—Joseph's history commences^* with his mother's death— and at in 
interesting age— Jacob's partiality, and its effects upon his sons— Jo- 
seph's dreams— His brethren remove from home- -Joseph visits them — 
progress of sin in their bosoms, and they resolve to slay him---Reu- 
ben's interference — Joseph assumed nothing in consequence of his father's 
partiality- -He is sold, and his coat dyed in blood — Jacob's anxiety and 
despair — Joseph in Egypt, and in temptation — Joseph in prison, and his 
acquaintance Mrith Pharaoh's chief butler and bajcer — The chief butler's 
ingratitude — Pharaoh's dreams — Joseph's elevation — Justin's remarka- 
ble testimony — Joseph's brethren visit Egypt, and know him not — Simeon 
bound — They return dismayed — Benjamin brought into Egypt — on their 
second return Benjamin is arrested — Judah pleads for his brother— Jo- 
seph discovers himself — Retrospection — They tell their father of his 
jwosperity — Jacob and Joseph meet-^— Their after-feelings supposed— Ja- 
cob introduced to Pharaoh — Israel dies — Joseph's mourning— .He returns 
to fulfil his duties in Egypt — and. dies also-^Concluding Remarks on 
Genesis— It relates facts in which we are concerned, and which revela- 
tion must necessarily contain — Moses is the author of it— The connex- 
ion between it, and the succeeding books, is inseparable,— The historian 
writes like a man convinced of the truth of that which he advances^--. 
The difference between the style of Genesis, and that of his other writ* 
sngs, noticed and accounted for. 



LECTURE VII. 

PAGE 192—213. 

A SCRIPTURAL REPRESENTATION OF THE NATURE AND DES= 
TINATION OE MAN. 

Gen. II, 7. Job xxxii, 8. — 'Introduction — Vegetable world — - Ani- 
mal world— Man — his natural dignity-!- What is spirit?— Its operations 
traced — Understanding . — Passions^ — Memory— Imagination-— Breams—^ 
Its separate stale— The Soul— sleeping scheme examined — How repre- 
sented in the Scriptures— capable of separate joys or sufferings— Source 
of human dignity-— Life secretly communicated by God— Intelligence 
distributed variously by the same hand" — Madness— -Spiritual knowledge 
the gift of God — The future existence of the spirit flows from him— "^Re- 
flections— How high is the destination of the spirit! — Its powers should 
be devoted to the Deity — How vast is its loss! — How diligently shoulcX 
it be cultivated-p-Concluding remarks^— .A skeptic is an enemy to him- 
self and to mankind— ^Humanity is concer^ied in the progress of Chyis^- 
tianity. 



12 CONTENTS. 

LECTURE VIII. 

PAGE 214—241. 

THE SLAVERY AND DELIVERANCE OF ISRAEL IN EGYPT. 

Gen, XV, 13, 14. Acts vii, 35, 36 — The Bible recalls past events--- 
Man always man— his information confined to the past and the present--- 
he knows no'hing-of the future-— Commencement of Exodus-. -Subject 
proposed, and its arranc^ement stated— Chang-cs efTected in a few years 
—Haw much often depends upon an individLial---Ravages of time im- 
pi-essively pourtrayed by the inspired writer • Multiplication of Israel--- 
Their bondag-e- Children slain- -Birth of Moses and his exposure— He 
is rescued by Pharaoh's daughter— her blindness to the future Educa- 
tion of Moses---Difference between man and man in talents, in litera- 
ture, in rank of life, and m piety-- Silence of Moses respecting the first 
40 years of his life - He slays the Egyplian"-and flies---He marries Zip- 
porah—He approaches the burning bush ■-••his commission opens- -he 
meets the Magicians before Pharaoh- General statement of his miracles 
-'-Death of the first born- -the Israelites depart— Criticism on the word 
**To Borrow"— They pass the Red Sea — Foreign testimonies to this 
fact — There was such a person as Moses, proved by Justin and Longi- 
nus — He brought Israel from Egypt, proved by Justin, Manetho, Taci- 
tus, Fliuy, Trogus Pompeius— -I'he Jews coidd Jiot have asserted these 
things, unless they had been true, without detection— Testimony of 
Numenius—the Jews themselves could not be imposed upon— These 
facts are kept in remembrance by their rites — Ancient custom of the 
Egyptians on the day before the Passover — -Testimony from Diodorus. 
Siculus--An appeal to Skepticism. 

LECTURE IX. 



PAGE 2^2—266. 

TRE JOURNEY OF ISRAEL IN THE WILDERNESS.* THEIR ES-. 
TABLISHMENT IN CANAAN; AND THE CIRCUMSTANCES 
ATTENDING THESE EVENTS. 

Joshua xxiv, 2-- 1.3.--Reasnn is to the mind what the eye is to the 
Qod\, and Revelation is tO reason what light is to theeye--the one is the 
organ-- the other tlve medium— Kevelalion necessary to. elucidate Nature 
and Providence — and to develope futurity — the Subject stated in its ex- 
tent, and arranged according to the Scripture history — Character of the 
Israelites — They i^nirmur for water — Manna and quails sent — a fresh sup- 
ply of water — Two events distmguished — They subdue Amalek — The 
Law given — C'.)ntrasi between Sinai and Calvary — The Golden Calf — the 
spies bring an evil report of Canaan — A general enumeration of succeed- 
ing events- and the death of Moses--a tribute to his memory. -Joshua 
succeeds him, and tlie siiuaiion of Israel stated— They pass Jordan-"Thc 
fall of Jcricho>- and tiie fuUilment of Josliua's curse-- A shower of stones, 
an-d the sun and moon stand still — -Foreign testimonies— Positive evi- 
dence from the most ancient writers to the history at large- --from Aris- 
tobulus, the Orphic verses, Strabo, Juvenal, Diodorus Siculus, Pliny, 
Tacitus, Calcidius, Hermippas, and the Poets in general--Testimony of 
]^anetho to the antiquity of these events— Circumstantial evidences,-- 



CONTENTS. 13 

Publicity of the Law— adherence of the Jews to it- Its perfection-;im- 
possibility of imposition--, So also of the miracles of the journey — Cus- 
toms of the Jews, perpetuated to this hour, refer to ihese events—Rea- 
son for the reservation of the Canaanites- — aspect of the whole to the 
Messiah — Objections— that the conduct of the Israelites was immoral— 
that it was cruel — that the instruments iised to punish these nations 
were improper-refuted- -Impi'orement— the harmony and success of the 
designs of God contrasted with human fluctuations— he presides in the 
councifs of princes — It is pleasant to see the gradual developement oC 
his plans — it will be delightful in heaven to review the whole. 

LECTURE X. 

PAGE 262-^292. 

THE GOVERNMENT OF THE JEWS INCLUDING THE THEOCRA- 
CY AND MONARCHY, TO THE BUILDING OF SOLOMOn's TEM- 
PLE: WITH A CONFIRMATION OF SOME SUBORDINATE FACTS. 

1 Sam.viii, 6— 10, & 19, 20. Acts vii. 44 --48. Heb. xi. 32—34 
Hevelation to be examined with reverence, with caution, and with caw- 
dor— Retrospection^ — the subject slated — An inquiry imo the rise of 
government — The parental and the patriarchal — Nimrnd — Origin of mon- 
archy — Selection of Israel— Theocracy — derivation of the term — Tliree- 
fold relation of God to the Hebrews- — Distinction of the terms, staiiites, 
commandments, judgments, and testimonies— Scripture epithets expres- 
sive of God's choice of the Jews — ^Appointment of their rulers — ^ajnuel 
and his sons->-Expiration of the Theocracy; and in wiiai sense? — Monar- 
chy of the Jewsrf-The change of government displeasing to God — and 
why? — -Saul anointed — his alienation from God — David biought lo court 
— his friendship with Jonathan — Saul and his sons slain — David's lamen- 
tation — His succession, his character, and his trials — -His design to build 
a temple — The monarchy traced to its close — absorbed in the spiritual 
reign of Jesus — Solomon's temple— Evidences respecting it— God*s pres* 
ence unconfined-^Subordinate Scripture facts confirmed- Gideon's ac- 
tions by Sanchoniathon— Jepthae's vow, by the story of Iphigenia- Samp- 
eon's foxes, m Ovid*s Roman feasts — Delilah's treachery, in the story of 
the daughter of Nisus-— The strength and valor of Sampson, in tlie la- 
bors of Hercules— The victory of David over the Syrians, by Nichelaus 
Damascenus— The taking of Jerusalem, and the destruction of Senacha- 
rib's arnvj', by Herodotus—The Translation of Elijah, in the story of 
Phseton.-Jonah's preservation by the whale, is related of Hercules by 
Lycophron, and by ^neus Gazeus—The dearth in the days of Ahab, by 
Menander— and the fire from Heaven which consumed Elijalrs sac-* 
rifice, by Cyprian, and by Julian- -Conclusion— Christ compared with 
Solomon. 

LECTURE XL 

PAGE 293—319. 

THE CAPTIVITIES OF ISRAEL AND OF JUDAH. 

2 Kings xvii. 1 - 6. 2 Chron. xxxvi. 14 — 21. — The liistory of em- 
pires is the record of the human heart — The Bible makes us acquainted 
with MEN — Cautions arising from Solomon's fall---Succession of Reho- 
boam, and division of the kingdom- -The captivity of Israel, when? and 
by whomN -Samarilans-"Cause of the captivity— Mtnander's testimony-- 



14 CONTENTS. 

Man's abuses of power- --contrasted with the Benevolence of the Deity- 
Loss of the ten tribes-- Inferences- The Messiah was the great object 
of the Old Teslament dispensation -The very existence of the Jews de- 
pended upon their connexion with the Savior---The captivity of Judah, 
when? and by whom? Intermediate events- -The reading of the roll- 
Nebuchadnezzar's first vision explained by Daniel— Total ruin of Jerusa^ 
iem-.Descriplion of Babylon -Its walls—The bridge and banks of the 
i-iver -Canals— Palace, hanging gardens, and iemple---Nebuchadnezzar*s 
pride and fall; related in his decree --Obscurely hinted in AbydeVjus.-- 
Confirmed by Herodotus — ^Asserted by Josephus — Gathered from Ptole- 
my's Canon---Kis reign and works mentioned by Berosus, Megasthenes^ 
Diodes, and Philostratus--Evil Merodach succeeds him— Then Nerig. 
lasser— Then Belshazjfar — Babylon taken by Cyrus— The Jews restored 
- -Improvement — The facility with wliich God can punish nations-— Ele- 
vation sometimes bestowed upon the worst of characters- -The power of 
the wicked limited — War a dreadful curse — Let us seek a better world! 

LECTURE XII. 

PAGE 320—347. 

THE LIFE, DEATH, RESURRECTION, AND ASCENSION OF ^ESUS 
CHRIST, PROVED AS MATTERS OF FACT. 

Luke ii, 1-7. 1 Cor. xv, 3-8. 2 Pet. i, 16. -Sublimity allied to 
terror— God alike great in every point of view —The former dispensa- 
tion has yielded to one more simple and more spiritual—The obscurity of 
antiquity left behind---The subject stAted'--It relates to facts transpiring 
in the zenith of the glory of Rome-.-Expectations of the world at this 
period- Extract from Virgil's Pollio -compared with Isaiah's pi-edictions 
-.-Tranquillity of all nations-Tlie decree of Augustus.-Conjectures 
respecting this tax, and its extent— Inns of the East— Poverty of the Sa- 
vior's birth-- It is announced to the Shepherds... Journey of the Magi — 
who they were- -the star which conducted them-- tlieir country— -Testi- 
monies of Pliny and Chalcidius to this circumstance ---Cruelty of Herod 
.-Evidence tiiat Christ had been in Egypt--Testimony of Josephus res- 
peeling him- Julian, Porphyry, and Celsus allow his works ---His death 
— -Acts of Pilate--asserted by Justin Martyr and Tertullian-- Manner of 
it mentioned by Tacitus and by Lucian — Miracles attending his death- 
Darkness supernatural — Testimony of Phlegon- of Suidas- -and the re- 
mark of Dionysius the Areopagite-.-Burial of the Savior-.-Evidences of 
the resurrection--Piea of the guards answered in seven different ways- 
Ascension— Testimony rtf Pliny to the early worship of Christ--General 
evidences of Qjiadratus- -Tertullian, and Arnobius--.Improvenjent — Rev- 
elation resembles the guiding Star—in its nature— in its source— in its 
object-'-and in its issue. 

LECTURE XIII. 

P/jGE 348— ■]76. 

THE CHARACTER OF THE WRITERS OF THE OLD AND NEW 
TESTAMENTS. 

1 John i. 1 — 3. Heb. xi. 56— 33.— -Sensations excited in heaven and 
upon earth, by tlie Ascension — The subject stated — The books of the 
Old and New Testaments were really written by those whose names they 
bear, proved by the Testimony of their countrymen, and the consent 



CONTENTS. 15 

of all nations— They were for the most part eye*\vilnesses of the facts 
•which they recorded — What they did not s^e they derived from the most 
certain evidences— Their integrity— Their impartiality— Their candor— 
Their wisdom— Their holiness— Their lives contrasted with those of 
their opponents— Their motives disinterested— proved by their actions — 
and by their preaching — Tlxeir testimony respecting themselves— They 
believed what they taught— proved by their sufferings— They were 
guided by that which they preached—proved by the correspondence 
of their lives— They could not be deceived in the facts which they re- 
late They would not deceive — proved from their acknowledged charac- 
ters— and from their criminality, supposing it possible — Their views 
stated, and their prejudices— Their appeals considered — The concession 
of their enemies — Improvement — The allowances to be made in reading 
the scriptures— and the spirit in which they should be consulted. 

LECTURE XIV. 



FAGE 377—397. 

THE UNSEAlftCHABLE GOD: OR, AN ATTEMPT TO PROVE AN 
ANALOGY BETWEEN THE RELIGION OF NATURE AND THAT OF 
fHE BIBLE, BY SHEWING THAT THE SAME OBSCURITY WHICH 
OVERSHADOWS REVELATION, EQUALLY OVERSPREADS NATURE 
AND PROVIDENCE. 

Job XXXVI. 14 — Man, a' needy dependent creature — in his infancy 

his childhood — his youth — his manhood — his death — Revelation meets 
him on the terms of his nature — Magnitude, beauty, and wisdom, com- 
parative terms — Limitation of human powers — Created minds swallow- 
ed up in the Deity — The subject stated — God unsearchable in the works 
of creation— Ignorance of man in early ages — Progress of philosophy — 
Our present ignorance of the planetary system — Attempts to reach the 
poles frustrated — Our ignorance of the minutije of nature, and of the 
structure of the human frame — God unsearchable in providence — Its mys- 
teries relative to empires — The assistance of Revelation — Its perplexi- 
ties relative to individuals — Partial illumination from the Bible — Our ig- 
norance of the invisible worlds — These were once unknown altogether — 
Their existence is now clearly proved in the Scriptures — Their nature m 
general is ascertained — But few particulars respecting them have trans- 
pired — God unsearchable in the word of Revelation — Its general truths 
exhibited — Its promises — Concession respecting its difficulties: but in 
this very point consists its analogy with nature and providence — These 
all are but partial views of the Deity — The thunderof his power is incon- 
ceivable — Illustrations — Conclu',ion, 



Writers quoted, or referred to, in the course of tlvt 
Lectures^ with their respective dates. 





B.C. 


Orpheus „ . 


1000 


Hesiod . . 


, 900 


Homer 


850 


Sanchoniathan 


. 760 


Xenophanes 


620 


Herodotus]^-- 


484 
413 


Plato 


. 348 


Aristotle 


. 322 


Diodes 


321 


Abydenus 


300 


Megasthenes 


. 298 


Menander 


293 


Strato Lampsacenus 


. 288 


Lycophron 


276 


Manetho , . . 


261 


Aristobulus 


124 


ipiodorus Siculus 


. 44 


Cicero 


43 


Trogus Pompeius 


. 41 


Catullus 


. 40 


Virgil 


. 18 




A. D. 


Nicholaus Demascenus 


6 


Suidas 


. 11 


Ovid 


17 


Strabo 


. 25 


Apion 


35 


Philo— about 


. 50 


Lucanus 


. 65 


Seneca 


65 


Pliny the elder 


. 80 


Solinus 


81 


Josephus — died 


93 


Pliny the younger 


103 


Plutarch 


119 


Juvenal 


128 


JEXivjx 


. 140 


Justin 


148 


Justin Martyr 


163 


Lucian 


. ISO 


Origen 


200 


Clemens Alexandrinus 


. 220 


Philostratus 


241 


Ocellus Lucanus 


250 


Cyprian 


258 


I.onginus 


273 


Tacitus 


276 



A.D. 



Chalcidius—in the third cen- 


tury 




Arnobiu's 


300 


Porphyry 


. 304 


Eusebius 


342 


Julian 


563 


n.,r.\^\.,c \ o^ Alexandria 
Cyrillus j of Jerusalem 


386 
444 


Epiphanius — died 


403 


iEneus Gazeus 


. 490 


Alexander Trallianus 


520 


Hermippas -\ 




Rhodigenus i „„^ . . 

Numenius f^^^^rtam 




Eupolemus J 




MODERNS* 


• 


Pearson 


1600 


Grotius 


. 1645 


Usher 


1655 


Milton 


167*4 


Addison 


1719 


Rollin 


1741 


Saurin 




Burnet 




Whiston 




M. de la Pry me 




Taylor 




Prideaux 




Bryant 




Shaw 




Pocoke 




Volney 




Bisselius 




AUix 




Doddridge 




Home 




Poole 




Bruce 




Watson 
Geddes 




Burn 




St. Pierre 




Ancient Universal Histoi-y 




Humphrys's Annotations 




Encyclopedia Bri tannica 





LECTURES 



ON 



SCKIFTUmE FACTS. 



LECTURE I. 

INTRODUCTORY— THE NECESSITY OF A DIVINE 
REVELATION. 

JOB Xl^ 7 — 9. 
Canst thou by searching find out God? Canst thou find 
out the Almighty unto perfection"^ It is high as 
heaven, what canst thou do? deeper than hell, 'what 
canst thou know? The measure thereof is longer 
than the earth, and broader than the sea! 

X o enlarge the sphere of knowledge, and to increase 
the sum of happiness in the present world, is an object 
worthy the attention of every friend of human nature; 
and the effort, even should it fail, deserves the appro- 
bation and the applause of wise and good men: but 
to provide consolation against the severest moments of 
trial, to disperse the cloud which hangs over "the valley 
of the shadow of death," and to conduct the immortal - 
spirit safe to the throne of the invisible God, is a pur- 
pose far more sublime, and an exertion of still greater 
utility. To shed lustre over a few years, or to 
live in remembrance a century or two, and then to 
be forgotten, is comparatively of small importance: yet 
for this the scholar labors, and the hero endures hard- 
ship — this is the summit of human ambition, and the 
boundary of its most sanguine expectations. To shine 
on the roll of science, to pluck honors which fade like 



18 

the flower of the field, while you gather them, or t© 
sparkle among the favorites of fortune, is of little avail to 
man, who must soon resign to the merciless grasp of 
death, even the sceptre of the world, were it committed 
to his possession. Yet these things are sought amid re- 
peated disappointments; and the golden bait is received 
with increased avidity, although barbed with anguish 
and sorrow. But who regards the silent fmger of reli- 
gion pointing to an inheritance above the stars, prom- 
ising splendors which shall never expire, and waiting 
to crown the man, who obeys her gracious admoni- 
tions, with honor, glory, and immortality? 

When I remember the occasion on wiiich I stand 
before this large assembly, and the awful engagement 
which, at the solicitation of many among you, I have 
undertaken — I shrink from my subject, and enter up- 
on the discussion of it with "fear and trembling." To 
throw down the gauntlet, and to enter the list with win- 
ning and attractive fashion, is a bold and daring effort. 
It will be admitted that this is a day of prevailing infidel- 
ity; and surely it will also be allowed, that it is th& duty 
of every man, who sustains the sacred office of a Chris- 
tian minister, to '^contend earnestly for the faith once 
delivered to the saints," and to "give a reason for the 
hope that is in him." On this principle the Lecture? 
presumes to offer his mite to the Lord oi the Treasury 
towards the support of this great and common cause. 
It inuy be asked, why hoary age should not rather en- 
ter upon this arduous v/ork? Would to God that more 
efforts were made on the part of able and faithful 
ministers, equally venerable for years and for litera- 
ture, against the common enemy! Those, however^ 
v/ho imagine that age should exclusively wield the 
■'iwo-edged sword" against skepticism, will do well to re- 



19 

member, that the opposite cause is not supported alto- 
gether, or for the most part, by years, experience, and 
learning. No, tliese are far from being exclusively our 
opponents: The young, the inexperienced, and the illit- 
erate, have united with the sage and the philosopher, 
against the claims and obligations of revelation. While 
tven school-boys daringly renounce asystem which they 
have not examined, which they cannot, alas! appreciate, 
and embrace one which they do not understand, may 
it not be permitted to a young man to say something 
in favor of a volume, which, if he should not succeed 
in defending it, he can truly say he admires and loves? 
Let the wise and the learned rouse to action, and pro- 
duce their "strong reasons"— I shall be among the first to 
sit at their feet: but upon persons of my own age, I feel 
that I have a peculiar claim; I trust that they will hear 
me with candor and respect; and for them principal- 
ly I have suffered this engagement to be announced to 
the public. Let youth be opposed to youth, age to 
age, talent to talent. Let the enemies of revelation 
know, that we can ascend to their eminence, or sink 
to their level. Let it be seen, that some are growing 
up to support the Redeemer's kingdom, while others 
finish their course, and are gathered to their fathers. 

It may be said, that so many have undertaken this 
cause, and acquitted themselves so ably, that neither any 
thing new can be advanced, nor is it indeed necessary. 
It is readily granted, that 1 am to tread in a beaten 
track; but while skepticism continues to press upon us 
Old objections in new forms, we must follow their ex- 
ample in refuting those objections: and it is as necessary 
as it ever was to oppose the standard of truth to that of 
error, so long as our adversaries determine to keep the 
field, and to maintain the combat. So far from flattering 



20 

myself that I am striking out a new path, I shall profess 
sedly set before you^ from time to time, such arguments 
and testimonies as I am able to collect from otliers; and 
shall freely use every author that may be servicable to 
the cause which I attempt to defend. And if I shall be 
able to set an old argument in a new light, or even to 
bring one to remembrance only, I shall be satisfied to 
be regarded a compiler of evidences, rather than a cre- 
ator of them; I shall be amply rewarded for my labor, 
nor will you regret your attendance. When however, 
I recollect, that we all gather our stores of knowledge 
from the writings or conversation of others; that the 
experience and observation of the wisest of men could 
furnish him with comparatively little intelligence, w^ere 
it never permitted to advance beyond its own imme- 
diate sphere; and w^hen in addition to these considera- 
tions, I remember that every man has his own train of 
thinking, and a mode of expression peculiar to himself, 
I flatter myself that all which shall be said, will not 
be borrowed, if all is not exclusively my own; and that 
something may be advanced in the course of these lec- 
tures, which, if it should not surprise by its novelty, 
may be candidly received for its justness, and attract 
by its simplicity and sincerity. 

It will be proper, in a few words, to state the im- 
mediate purpose of these lectures, and the object of 
the plan which I am about to suggest: it is simply to 
meet skepticism on its own ground in relation to fust 
principles. Is it asserted that the facts recorded in 
this volume have no evidence? We shall endeavor to 
prove that they are furnished with all the evidence 
which events so remote can have, and which reason 
ought to require of time. Is it said that Christianity 
is a modern invention? On the contrary, if our pur- 



21 

pose be established, it will appear as old as the creation* 
Is the authority of the scriptures questioned? We will 
produce other testimonies. Is its history condemned 
as absurd? We shall attempt to shew that it is perfect- 
ly rational; and that all evidences weighed, and all 
circumstances considered, it is clear that events could 
not have taken place otherwise than as they are re- 
corded. Is it objected, that it claims support from mi- 
racles? It will follow from our representations, if they 
are made with the strength and clearness which we de- 
sire, that such a book, so written, and so supported, 
could it be proved to be false, would be of itself a 
greater miracle than any which appears upon its pag- 
es. The facts which it fecords, are the immediate sub- 
jects of examination in the present course of lectures; 
and these will be considered in connexion with their 
history, and confirmed by foreign and ancient testi- 
mony, under the following arrangement. 

1. The present lecture, w^hichis merely introducto- 
ry, will be an attempt to prove the necessity of a divine 
Revelation. 

2. The Creation: that the Mosaic account of it is 
the only rational one which we have received: 

3. The Deluge: 

4. The destruction of Babel, the confusion of lan- 
guage, the dispersion of the people, and the origin of 
nations: 

5. The destruction of Sodom and Gomorrha: 

6. The history of Joseph; which will bring us to 
the close of Genesis: 

7. Intermediate Lecture: a scriptural representation 
of the nature and destination of man: 

8. The slavery and deliverance of Israel in Egypt: 

9. The journey of the Israelites in the wilderness: 



^2 

their establishment in Canaan; and the circumstances 
attending these events: 

10. The government of the Jews; including the the- 
ocracy and monarchy, to the building of Solomon's 
Temple; with a confirmation of some subordinate facts 
recorded in the scriptures. 

11. The captivities of Israel and Judah: 

12. The life, death, resurrection, and ascension of 
Jesus Christ, proved as matters of fact: 

13. The character of the writers of the Old and 
New Testament: 

14. Concluding Lecture — the unsearchable God; 
or, an attempt to prove an analogy between the reli- 
gion of nature and that of the Bible, by shewing that 
the same obscurity which overshadows revelation, e- 
qually overspreads nature and providence. 

The present subject of discussion is, 

THE NECESSITY OF A DIVINE REVELATION. 

A fair trial of the powers of human reason was 
made during that long and dreary period in which the 
scriptures were confmed within the walls of Jerusalem, 
and the world at large was left in the unmolested ex- 
ercise of ail the means furnished by nature and philo- 
sophy, to conduct the mind to God. To that period 
we shall therefore recur; and shall endeavor to ascer- 
tain what were the discoveries made by the most 
enlightened among the Heathens, respecting the na- 
ture of Deity, the relation which he bears to us, the 
obligations under which we are laid to him, the con- 
sequences of death, the secrets of futurity, and all those 
things which are so interesting to man, as an immor- 
tal being. It is fair to judge of the powers of nature and 
of reason, from the effects produced by their agency. 



23 

when they were left altogether to themselves. It is 
unfair in the advocates of skeptiscism to avail them* 
selves of the superior intelligence afforded by revela- 
tion, and to use this knowledge against the volume 
from which they derived it. It is not possible to de- 
termine with any degree of precision, what discove- 
ries the unassisted light of reason is capable of mak- 
ing, while.it is aided, and indeed absorbed, by the su- 
perior illumination of revealed religion; it must there- 
fore be admitted, that a fair and accurate investigation 
of its powers, can only be made by looking at it as it 
really appeared when it was seen alone. We ask 
with confidence, whether at that period of the world, 
when science unveiled all her splendors, and irradia- 
ted the discovered globe from pole to pole; when phi- 
losophy sat upon her throne enjoying the zenith of 
her power; and when reason had attained the meridi- 
an of her glory; a system more honorable to God^ 
qi^ore adapted to the wants and the felicity of man, 
and more productive of moral excellence, than that 
which is suggested in the Scriptures, was produced? 
We defy skepticism to answer in the affirmative. Did 
the mild philosophy of Socrates and of Plato; did the 
elegant mind of Cicero; did all the heathen philoso- 
phers in their combined exertions, ever produce such 
affecting elucidations of divine goodness, such consol- 
ing demonstrations of divine mercy, such delightful 
discoveries of life and immortality? They never did. 
And we shall attempt to prove to you the necessity of 
a divine revelation from the state of the world, at that 
very period when these eminent persons flourished. 
We shall not cause to pass before you, rude and bar- 
barous nations; but we shall bring to the test scientific 
Greece, learned and polite Athens, polished, proudj 
imperial Rome. We solicit your attention to 



24 

L Their Superstitions and rites of worship: 

11. Their CIVIL INSTITUTIONS and their defec- 
tive morals: 

IIL Their uncertain conjectures^ in relation 
to futurity. 

I. Their superstitions and rites of worship. 

And in contemplating the state of religion during 
the boasted reign of reason and philosophy, we can- 
not but be struck with their ignorance of 

1. The nature and the attributes of God. 
When man was left to wander over this wide globe 
without one cheering ray to guide his feet, the light of 
nature excepted, the progression of erroneous conclu- 
sions founded upon one false principle was rapid and 
extensive. He beheld this fair world covered with ev- 
ery thing necessary to his existence, and to his enjoy- 
ments. Spring enchanted all his senses: a summer's 
sun poured hi^ glories around him: autumn furnished 
his table; and experience taught him to secure 
her bounty in his rude habitation, while the blasts of 
winter howled round his dwelling, and spread desola- 
tion over the plains. He perceived that these seasons 
regularly returned, and that they departed in their or- 
der. He concluded that they had their appointed pe- 
riods; and this suggested to him the conviction of a 
supreme, over-ruling Intelligence. In ev^ery nation, 
and in every age, the conception of the being of a God, 
presented itself to the human mind; and an Atheist 
was a monster even in the days of heathenism. He 
had no clear conception, however, of spirit distinct 
from matter; and therefore conjectured that this God 
might be visible. Here commenced his errors. He 
looked around in search of this great first cause. He 
beheld the sun as he performed his apparent journey 



'25 

round the globe. When his beams were tempered 
with gentleness, it was spring: when they poured their 
most fervid radiance upon the earth, it was summer: 
their continued vivification produced the maturity of 
autumn; and their total absence, or partial influence, 
the storms and the gloom of winter. But, when he 
fc-appeared, the snow dissolved, rivers flowed afresh, 
and the face of nature was renewed. Of all the ob- 
jects around him, which could be so likely to be the 
God of nature? or, in the eye of philosophy itself, what 
presented so perfect a resemblance of the Deity? The 
Persian raised him an altar, and bowed with fervor 
before his shrine. 

But the sun was not the only benefactor of man. 
Night spread her mantle over him, and he sought re* 
pose. The moon lighted him from his labor, and dif>> 
fused a silvery, partial illumination upon the face of 
creation, which before her rising was enveloped in per- 
fect obscurity. In her appearance she resembled the 
Tuler of the day; and the conclusion was irresistible, 
thai she ought to divide with him the honors of wor- 
ship. Thus while the sun scorched the head of the 
adoring Persian: the worshippers of the moon rent the 
air with shouting, ^' Great is Diana of the Ephesians." 
Still but two of the hosts of heaven were considered. 
The smaller appearances of light, kindled in the sides, 
during the absence of the sun, were deemed of the 
.same nature, and supposed to answer the same purpo- 
-ses, with the larger; and it was at length inferred that 
they also should be remembered as objects of adora- 
tion; although possibly subordinately to the others, as 
they were inferior in glory. Hence sprang poly- 

3!HEISM. 

The arts and sciences in the mean time advanced: 

4 



2*6 

and while they were erecting for themselves splendid 
habitations, they thought that their deities ought to de- 
rive some honor horn the enlargement of useful knowl- 
edge. Temples arose, and altars were elevated. There 
the worshipper adored his supposed deity with greater 
convenience. A resemblance of his God occurred to 
his mind, as desirable. The idea was eagerly adopt- 
ed. On some altars the fire flamed, as the purest em- 
blem of the sun. Others copied the figure of the wax- 
ing moon, and described a crescent. Others adored the 
resemblance of a star.* But the Egyptian ever ready 
in symbols, considered the qualities of his deities; and 
whether they w^re energy or fervor as in the sun, or 
gentleness and softness as in the moon, he represented 
them by the unbending strength of manhood, or the 
mild, dignified chastity of the woman. When the 
inind had once seized the counterpart of its imaginary 
god in nature, there quickly sprang up an Apollo, and 
a Hercules,and a Diana. Here arose image- w^ors hip. 
Nor did human infatuation end here. Every object 
around them was deified. The heavens, the air, the sea, 
the very earth, were adored under the names of Ju- 
piter, Juno, Neptune, and Cybele. The catalogue was 
swelled to infinity! Their fellow men whom they either 
feared or loved, wcve exalted to heavenly dominion. 
A conqueror deluged the world in blood. Desolation 
attended his footsteps. The wreath with which he 
bound his forehead was nurtured in the field of slaugh- 
ter, and washed in the tears of widows and orphans. 
Sighs filled the floatings of his banner; and he drove 
his chariot with frozen insensibility over the slain in 
the midst of the battle. He was a curse to the earth, 
and execrated by the nations. He enlarged indeed 

• Acts vii,43. 



27 

the limits of his empire; but every inch of ground add- 
ed to his ovv^n dominions, was an encroachment upon 
those of his neighbors, and was purchased at the ex- 
pense of the heart's blood of his contemporaries. Af- 
ter his death, dazzkd by his exploits, his infatuated 
subjects paid him divine honors, and placed him 
among their worthless deities. One man taught his 
countrymen to cast seed into the ground, after it had 
been broken up, and thus to cause ''the little one to 
become a thousand:" and he was w^orshipped as pre- 
siding over the fruits of the earth. Another availed 
himself of the cloudless atmosphere of Babylon, and 
ascending a lofty tow^er, made early observations on 
the heavenly bodies: he was adored as the king of 
heaven. A third by dint of attention, foretold the re- 
turn of periodical winds; and he was worshipped as 
having charge of the storms, under the name of iEolus. 
A fourth crossed the ocean, and in a frail bark com- 
mitted himselfto the mercy of the w^inds and waves. 
B.)th the hero and liis ship were instantly translated 
to the skies; and at this hour a constellation in the hea- 
vens bears their name, and keeps the daring enter- 
prise in remembrance. While a fifth discovering me- 
dicinal virtms in plmts, and applying them with suc- 
cess in certain cases, became the god of medicine, was 
said to unpeople the grave, and was adored under the 
name of Esculapius.* To pursue the subject, would 
be useless and wearisome; every part of the heavens, 
the earth, the air, thi sea, and the supposed infernal 
world, was crowded with deities; and every succeed- 
ing tyrant, as I he first act of his reign, gave his merci- 
less predecessor a place among the gods. 

While they ai! professedly admitted that there was 

• Sec i.ote 1, at ihe end of the Volume. 



one supreme being who presided over their multiplied 
divinities, and held them all in subjection, they per- 
petually disagreed on the point to whom this honor 
belonged; and the supreme deity of one country, held 
only a subordinate place in another. 

Respecting the attributes of the objects of their wor- 
ship, they discovered unequalled ignorance and impi- 
ety. We are compelled to draw a veil over the prin- 
ciples and operations of these pretended deities; for the 
tale is too gross to recite in the ear of modesty; and 
the picture could not meet the eye, without calling up 
a blush of shame, sorrow, and indignation, on the 
cheek of innocence. Who must not shudder with 
horror when he reads, that these sons of reason and 
philosophy, ascribed to the holy and invisible God, un- 
cleanness, and every detestable vice?* We will pass on 
from the nature and number of their deities, to con- 
sider, 

2. Their worship of God. llicir religious adora- 
tion, so called, was such as would have been better 
suited to the house of an harlot, than to the temple of 
God. Lasciviousness was sanctioned, encouraged, and 
practised, under the holy and venerable name of reli- 
gion. The more infamous the rites, the more accept- 
able were they supposed to be to the Deity. The 
apostle Paul has delineated in strong colors, the affect- 
ing depravity of that dreary and comfortless period. 

"Because when they knew God, they glorified him 
not as God, neitiier w^re thanklul; but became vain 
in their imagination; and their foolish heart was dark- 
ened. Professing theaiselves to be wise, they became 
fools; and changed the glory of the uncorruptible God, 

* The gross Inipuriiy to which this pp.ragraph allndes, was principally 
ascribed in the mythology of the bea,tiiens to Jupiter, their supreme deity. 



29 

into an image made like to connptible man, and to 
birds, and four-footed beasts, and creeping things. 
Wherefore God also gave them up to uitcieanness.:— 
Who changed the truth of God into a lie, and wor- 
shipped and served the creature more than the Creator, 
who is blessed for ever, amen. For this cause God 
gave them up unto vile affections." — 

The whole of this awful and well-founded accusa- 
tion, which contains in it things not to be so much as 
named among us, is given in the first chapter of the 
Epistle to the Romans, from the twenty-first verse to 
the end. And he who has read the Satires of Juvenal, 
or is at all acquainted with the history of those times, 
cannot dispute for a moment the fidelity of the apos- 
tle's testimony. 

It is the first principle of our nature to believe the 
existence of a God; and the first dictate of our reason, 
that, admitting this existence, we are bound to serve 
him, to obey him, and to sacrifice whatever we hold 
most dear to his demand. This is the dictate of 
reason, assisted or unassisted by the light of revelation. 
The Bible has directed this conviction to a proper ob- 
ject; and has specified the sacrifice which we should 
make, and the offering which duty requires us to pre- 
sent, when it says, "I beseech you, brethren, by the 
mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living 
sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your 
reasonable service." When "darkness covered the 
earth, and gross darkness the people," the selfsame 
principles were held; but alas! they were not directed 
to a right object! It is affecting to see the wretched 
and ignorant sons of men obeying the dictates of rea- 
son on this point, and, convinced that sacrifices ought 
to be presented to the Deity, concluding that he was 



so 

^^altogether such an one as themselves," and forming a 
false estimate of his character and perfections, offering 
air that was most precious to them, to the extinction 
of parental feeling, and in contempt of the voice of 
humanity. See yonder Druid, with fierceness glaring 
in his eyes, and the consecrated branch in his hand, 
polluting thy soil, O Britain! with the ashes of hundreds 
of victims consumed in an enormous image! But soft 
— we promised to produce examples only from polish- 
ed nations, and from empires at the zenith of their glo- 
ry. And we shall not have read far in the pages which 
record the brightest splendors of antiquity, before ^ve 
find the ''pitiful woman," offering her first born for her 
^'transgression, the fruit of the body for the sin of the 
soul;" the mother "forgetting her sucking child," and 
"ceasing to have compassion upon the son of her 
womb." My heart fails me, and the blood curdles in 
my veins with horror, when I recollect that it was a 
custom common among the Carthaginians to sacrifice 
children to Saturn. "the statue of that idol was of 
brass, and formed with extended arms; but so con- 
structed, as to suffer whatever was placed upon them, 
to fall into a fierce fire; flaming in a furnace at the foot 
of the image. The trembling parent approached with 
a countenance of ease which ill concealed the anguish 
of the heart, and presented his child. The distracted 
mother imprinted, with a parched lip, a last kiss upon 
the blooming cheek of her smiling infant. The fero- 
cious priest, clothed in scarlet, received the uncon- 
scious babe from the maternal embrace; and placing 
it on the arms of this infernal image, it fell into tlic 
fire. At that instant the drums were beat, and the air 
rang with acclamations from the surrounding multi- 
tude, to cover tiie agony of the bereaved parents, and 



31 

to drown the shrieks of the consuming victim! On 
one occasion,* two hundred children of the first fami- 
lies in Carthage were thus immolated! and on their an- 
nual sacrifices, those who had no children were accus- 
tomed to purchase those of the poor for this horrible 
purpose.! 

These are thy boasted triumphs, O reason! May God 
graciously preserve to us the teachings of the scriptures! 
At this mournful review of the blood-stained trophies 
of cruel and inexorable superstition, surely every pa- 
rent must feel the necessity, and value the blessing of 
a divine Revelation! Hail Christianity! It was thine to 
teach us "a more excellent way:" it w^as thine to over- 
throw the altars erected to an ^^unknown God," and 
defiled with human blood: it was thine to do away the 
impure rites which cannot be named without a blush, 
for the weakness and the wickedness of human nature: 
it was thine to roll the dark protentous cloud from the 
understanding: it was thine to demand the peaceful, 
noble sacrifice of the body by the crucifixion of its lusts 
and passions! And it is a reasonable service; for it is 
consonant with the purest dictates of reason: it is not a 
grievous service: it violates no principle of nature: it 
tortures no feeling of humanity. It is the only reason- 
able service which man can offer, and which is wor- 
thy the acceptance of Deity: yet which, but for the 
ligiit of Revelation, had never been discovered. Thy 
peace-speaking voice requires no blood to be shed; 
for the "sacrifice for sin" has already been presented 
in the death of Jesus Christ: it requires no mortification 
of our feelings but such as are depraved, and which 
were introduced into the mind by sin; but which are 

* When Ag-athocles was iibout to besiege Carthag-e. 
t Flutarch de Superstitione. See also note 2, at the end of the volume. 



not the genuine feelings of humanity, because they 
were not implanted in the day when God made man 
^'in his own image.*' The only slaughter demanded 
on thy altar, is that of vice and immorality, of a bitter, 
unforgiving spirit, of a proud, imperious, untractable 
disposition, of a useless, ungodly life! 

But we pass on to another review of the state of the 
heathen world; and argue the necessity of a divine rev- 
elation, from 

II. Their civil institutions; and theih defective 

MORALS. 

1. Their civil institutions. Vice was tolerated; 
the principles of humanity were violated; and parental 
feelings tortured. Suicide was esteemed the strongest 
mark of heroism; and the perpetrators of it, who ought 
to have been branded with everlasting infamy, were 
celebrated by their historians and poets, as men of supe- 
rior minds. Implacable hatred to enemies was deemed 
a virtue; and an unforgiving spirit was cherished, and 
esteemed manly fortitude. Hamilcar, the father of 
Hannibal, caused his child, at the age of nine years, to 
swear, that he would never be reconciled to the Ro- 
mans. The infamous traffic with human blood was 
permitted in its utmost extent; and, alas! is continued 
this day among nations professedly Christian: although 
the mild and gentle precepts of the gospel plead against 
it; and religion and humanity unite their voices to 
demand of the oppressor, "What hast thou done? 
The voice of thy brotiier's blood crieth from the 
ground!" Permission w^as given to the- citizens, on 
certain occasions, to kill their slaves. One of the wis- 
est legislators of the heathen world, commanded that 
all children should be exposed^ who appeared in ^ny 



respect maimed or defective, and thus was the hoiTible 
practice of destroying infants who did not seem likely 
to be of service to the state, not merely openly tolera- 
ted, but expressly instituted. The result of these pre- 
vailing opinions and pernicious institutions, was as 
might be expected, 

2. A MOST DEFECTIVE SYSTEM OF MORALS. De- 
pravity was the inevitable consequence of so barbarous a 

. system. The world was an aceldama-a perpetual scen-e 
of violence on some occasions, when it was agitated by 
ambition; and on others, in seasons of peace, was pollu- 
ted by every abominable and nameless vice. Virtue 
was a mere shadow — a name. It was serviceable as a 
subject of eulogy in the schools; but was little reduced 
to practice; and for the most part, their very virtues 
leaned to the side of unnatural severity^ In the frag- 
ments of antiquity, we meet with some beautiful 
pieces of morality: but unfortunately the history of 
those times proves, that the deportment even of the 
persons who wrote these admirable precepts, contra- 
dicted all their recommendations; and that they broke, 
one by one, every rule which they prescribed to others. 
We are moved with pity in reviewing ages when men 
thought and wrote so well; and liv^ed so immorally. 
So many vices were called by the name of virtue, that 
it is difficult to imagine, what they w^ould call vice, 
save cowardice. Their most emitient and enlightened 
characters were guilty of crimes not to be recited; and 
the general character of the whole heathen world 
was, that they were "given over to a reprobate mind, 
to do those things which were not convenient." The 
palaces of the Caesars raised their imperial turrets to the 

« skies, crowned with matchless magnificence: but with- 
iii, they were stained with every species of impurity. It 



^4 

is not possible to read the account given of these mon- 
archs who held the sceptre of the world, without pity 
and indignation. The narration of Suetonius, alter- 
nately elevates and depresses, informs and pollutes the 
mind of the reader: and if one moment we follow the 
warrior through his victories with delight, and parti- 
cipate his triumph, the next discovers him to us in 
his retirement, an object of horror and disgust, "com- 
mitting all manner of uncleanness with greediness.'^ 
The general contamination may well be imagined, 
when Horace obscures his genius with shameless inde- 
cency, and the elegant pen of Virgil sullied his pages 
wath impurity. I dare not refer to my authority for 
this mortifying statement; but it is a subject which, alas, 
admits of no dispute. We observe in general, respect- 
ing the heathen world, 

3. That their systems were too refined fok 
THE COMMON PEOPLE. And here Christianity triumphs. 
Its morality is pure, simple, intelligible, adapted to the 
meanest capacity. All other religions on the face of 
the earth were formed, for the most part, for the rich, 
and for the wise. This was a grand defect in their sys- 
tem. Their theology was so complex, that the phi- 
losopher alone could comprehend its refinements, 
while the vulgar were abused with the grossest iiibles^ 
as a substitute for religion, its mysteries were profes- 
sedly held back from the scrutiny of the crowd. But 
the gospel is the consolation of the poor. It has no 
mysteries which are dark to a plain understanding, and 
fathomable by the wise: no mysteries but such as are 
necessarily beyond the limited comprehension of reason; 
therefore equally obscure to the peasant and to the 
philosopher. Of its fundamental principles, "a way- 
faring man" is a competent judge; and they descend 



35 

to the level of his uncultured intellect. Other religions 
required splendid sacrifices, such as a poor man could 
not present; priestly demands were made, beyond his 
ability of performance; and the temple was barred 
against him, because he could not pay the fee of en- 
trance. But the religion of Jesus addresses itself to 
every description of men; and hides the poor under the 
shadow of its wings, from the ills and the injuries of 
life. Its adaptation to human infirmity, is universal. 
Other reliojions were the reli2:ions of the citv, of the 
empire, of the century: and varied with the changes of 
custom. But Christianity is equally suited to the East, 
the West, the North, or the South; it is adapted to the 
European, the African, the Asiatic, and the American: 
all are implicated in the charges it brings against human 
nature, all are drawn in the characters it delineates, and 
all are interested in the discoveries which it makes of 
life and immortality. But we forbear — we are not 
desirous to pronounce an eulogium on Revelation, but 
to prove its necessity from the state of the heathen 
world before its introduction; in order to which, we 
request your attention further, to 

III. TlIEIS UNCERTAIN CONJECTURES IN RELATION 

TO FUTURITY. 

To the mind even of the philosopher, futurity was 
like the chaos of Moses, fathomless, empty, without 
shape or order, and "darkness was upon the face of 
the deep.'' The poets sang of Ely si an fields and Tar- 
tarean punishments; but these were regarded as the 
flights of an ardent imagination; and the fictions un- 
der which their theories were buried, were openly re- 
jected by the wisest among them. Who does not pity 
the genius of the immortal Homer, laboring under 



36 

the pressure of this mournful ignorance? In vain he 
stretches the wing of his imagination to penetrate the 
secrets of futurity — not an object could be seen through 
the gloom. In vain he would carry the torch of rea- 
son into the world of spirits — the shadows of death ex- 
tinguish it. When he draws the picture of eternity 
with the pencil of fancy, he makes his greatest hero 
prefer a miserable life, ladened with all the woes of 
this valley of tears, to the highest honors which can 
be bestowed after death.* Some of the4iiost enlight- 
ened among them, agitated the question respecting the 
immortality of the soul; yet their reasoning led them 
no higher than conjecture, and they could not attain 
the firmness of persuasion. Nor had it ever entered 
into their most sanguine expectations respecting the 
body, that he who first constructed the machine^ 
and took it in pieces, should again put it together, and 
frame it for immortality. This was an idea so totally 
novel to them, that when Paul preached at the Areo- 
pagus, before the polished and enlightened Athenians^ 
"Jesus and the resurrection of the dead, some mocked:" 
others said, "He seemeth to be a setter forth of new 
gods;" while a few concluded that they would "hear 
him again of this matter." 

Revelation has done that for man, which neither 
reason nor philosophy could effect. In the exercise of 
the powers of our mind, upon the scenery by which 
we are surrounded^ we rise to the great parent of all; 
and deduce some conclusions respectilig his nature, 
from the operations of his hand: yet have we seen that 
these conclusions were frequently en oneous. The re- 
ligion of nature cannot go further than to teach us, 
that there is a God, all powerful, all-wise^ all good- 

• See note 3, al tlie ewl of Ihe volume. 



37 

and this is more than it taught the heathen world per- 
fectly. But it leaves us ignorant of our relation tc 
him: it is unable to unravel the more interesting parts 
of his character-, it cannot develope the harmony of 
his attributes. A thousand inquiries are suggested, to 
which we receive no answer. We are placed in cir- 
cumstances for which, on principles of reason, we can- 
not account; and perceive the existence of evil, unable 
to discover its source. We labor under a curse, from 
which, by the light of nature, we see no deliverance; 
and are in possession of an existence, for which we 
perceive no adequate end. Those things which are the 
most interesting, are also the most uncertain; and that 
which we know naturally, only serves to kindle a 
thirst to learn more, which, on the principles of nature 
and reason merely, cannot be satiated. For what 
has the light of philosophy done, but rendered dark- 
ness visible? It has strained the povy'ers of reason and 
imagination, till they could be stretched no further: yet 
without bringing one hidden truth to light. It ha- 
perplexed and bewildered the mind by contradictory 
hypotheses. It has exhausted the charms of eloquence, 
and enervated tlie force of argument, in establishing 
favorite systems upon the ruins oi those which preced- 
ed them, only to be pulled down in their turns, to 
make way for otliers equally absurd, and equally false. 
After dragging us through mazes of intricate reason- 
ing, it leaves us precisely at the point at which it found 
us, ail uncertainty, obscurity, and suspense. "I'he 
world by wisdom know not God.'' We ap[)eal to 
facts — they are before you — and we confidently expect 
your decision upon their testimony. 

It is here that Revelation takes up the process, and 
disperses the mist of uncertainty. It professes not in- 



3S 

duGd to reason upon subjects beyond the comprehen- 
sion of the human mind; but it reveals the fact and re- 
quires our assent to it: which we may safely give, al. 
though we do not comprehend the w^hole of that 
which is revealed. Those parts which we do compre- 
hend, we conceiv^e to be true and wise: may we not 
reasonably conclude that those which we do not com- 
pletely understand are equally so; and that the defi- 
ciency is in our natural powers, and not in the sub- 
ject investigated? Those who call upon you to relin- 
quish your Bibles, have not attempted to fathom the 
depths of futurity. They rather wish you to consider 
the scanty period of ''three score years and ten," the 
boundary of the hopes, the joys, and the expectations 
of man. They place beyond death — annihilation! 
The thought is insufferable! Say, you who have drop- 
ped the parting tear into the grave of those whom you 
loved,— is this a consoling system? Are the most tender 
connexions dissolved to be renewed no more? Must 
I resign my brother, my parent, my friend, my child^ — 
FOR EVER? What an awful import these words bear! 
Standing upon the grave of my family, must I say to 
its departed members, — 'Farewell! ye who were once 
the partners of my joys and sorrows! I leaned upon 
you for support; I poured my tears into your bosom; 
1 received from your hands the balm of sympathy — 
But it is no more! No more shall I receive your kind- 
ness; no more shall I behold you! The cold embrace 
of death clasps your mouldering bodies; and the shad- 
ows of an impenetrable midnight brood for ever up- 
on your sepulchres!" — No!We cannot relinquish Chris- 
tianity for a system which conducts us to this fearful 
close! When skepticism shall have provided a substi- 



39 

itute for our present hopes^ we will listen with more 
confidence to its proposals. 

And yet the cry of modern philosophy is against the 
only pledge of immortality afforded the human race. 
Where is the gratitude of such conduct? Are we not 
indebted to it for all the illumination which we enjoy? 
Did Paganism disappear, till Christianity exerted her 
benign influence? Did not man in a state of nature de- 
mand and offer human victims? And did not Revela- 
tion stay the effusion of blood, and abolish these infa- 
mous rites? Is it not friendly to science and civiliza- 
tion? Is it not inimical to whatever is injurious to the 
interests of man? Where is the wisdom of such an op- 
position? Before you banish this, produce a better sys- 
tem: shew us "a more excellent way;" teach us mo- 
rality more sublime! What is its crime? Sedition? Im- 
possible! It "puts us in mind to be subject to princi- 
palities and powers, to obey magistrates, to be ready 
to every good work." Want of philanthropy? Surely 
not! Some may bear its name who do not breathe its 
spirit: but their bigotry and iliiberality are not charge- 
able upon Christianity — Christianity, which teaches 
*'to speak evil of no man, to be no brawlers, but gentle, 
shewing all meekness unto all men." It substitutes 
faith for good works; audits professed teachers set up 
opinion against morality? It is a gross calumny! It 
blends these nominally jarring principles: it assigns to 
each its proper place: it requires the influence, and 
commands the agency, both of the one and the oth- 
er: it joins together those things which men frequently 
separate; and with equal consistency and plainness, 
traces the causes and effects of salvation: it has pre- 
scribed — ''these things I will thatihou affirm constant- 
ly, that they which have believed in God, be careful 
to maintain good works." 



40 

Extinguish the light afforded by this despised vol- 
ume, and you are precisely in the situation of the hea- 
then world. I close the Bible; and there remains to 
you a hope without a foundation, assaulted by a thou- 
sand dismal apprehensions. The planets which roll 
over your head, declare matchless wisdom, and incal- 
culable immensity. They write in the heavens, the 
name of Deity; and the attributes of power, majesty, 
and immutability. But where is the record of pardon? 
It is neither written by the sunbeam; nor wafted on 
the breeze. Where is the record of immortality? It 
is not inscribed on the face of the heavens; nor reveal- 
ed by the operations of nature. ''The depth saith, 
'It is not in me!' and the sea saith, 'It is not 
in me'!" Look abroad into creation. "Canst 
thou by searching find out God? Canst thou find out 
the Almighty unto perfection? It is high as heaven, 
what canst thou do? deeper than hell, what canst thou 
know? The measure thereof is longer than the earth; 
it is broader than the sea!" 

From what has been advanced, we conclude, that 
the state of man, considered as destitute of a revelation 
of the mind and will of God, is truly deplorable. So 
convinced was Socrates of this, that, from the uncer- 
tain decisions of reason oa the most important sub- 
jects, he not only concluded that such a divine revela- 
tion was necessary; but expressed his persuasion, that 
such a communication would be made.* 

If you admit the existence of a God, you must 
grant, that it is possible for him to give such a revela- 
tion. When it is so essential to the happiness of man, 
can we believe that a Being so infinitely gracious as 

* See note 4, at the end of'ihe volume. 



4i 

the Deity, would suffer us to remain without this 
source of consolation? If a revelation be necessary, it 
is probable, and if it be probable, where are we to ex- 
pect it? In the mythology of the heathens? In the Ko- 
ran? In the "Age of reason?" or in the Bible? Has there 
ever been a book produced, that has any pretensions 
to inspiration, this volume excepted? And are not its 
claims arising from external and internal evidences, ir- 
resistible? "We speak as to wise men^^ judge ye what 
we say!" 



6 



LECTURE IL 

THE CREATION. 

GEN. i, 1. 
In the beginning God created the Hedvens and the 

Earth. 

SENSE, Reason, and Faith, may be considered as 
progressive steps, by which the mind ascends to the in- 
visible God. Creation is an object of Sense. The 
light which shines upon my path is an emblem of the 
purity of Deity. The meridian sun is an image of his 
uncreated glory, who is the centre of every system. 
Whether I gaze upon the heavens, and trace the rev- 
olutions of orbs which move there: or follow the ec- 
centric comet through its protracted sphere, so far a^ 
it is visible: or examine the insect that flits by me, or 
the blade of grass upon which I trample: I perceive 
the operations, and adore the wisdom of the Divinity. 
His voice speaks in the thunder-storm; and when his 
lightning bursts from the bosom of the dark cloud, 
"my flesh trembleth for fear of his judgments." Fan- 
ned with the breath of the morning, or the gale of the 
evening: standing in this plain, or on that mountain: 
dwelling on the dry land^ or floating on the surface of 
the deep — I am still with God. 

Reason takes up the process where Sense fails. It 
deduces inferences respecting invisible things from 
those "which do appear." Nature wafts the mind to 
the Creator. From its majesty, Reason argues his great- 
ness: from its endless variety, his bounty; from its uses, 
bis wisdon). The foundation of the Temple of Knowl- 



1 



43 

edge is laid deep, wide, and lasting on the face of the 
universe. Reason seizes such materials as Sense can 
furnish and carries on the building. But, alas, the ed- 
ifice remains incomplete! The architect is skilful; but 
the materials are scanty. Those which are most es- 
sential to crown the work, lie far from this country 
beyond the grave. In vain imagination lends her as- 
sistance, and attempts to explore the land of spirits, 
where only they are to be found. Bewildered, ex- 
hausted, and powerless, the artist sits down in silent 
despair. 

Here faith takes up the tools which fell from the 
hand of Reason. iievelation ascertains all that futu- 
rity had concealed; and faith draws her materials 
from Revelation. The building rises and shall contin- 
ue to rise, till 'the top stone is brought forth with 
shouting.'^ For "faith is the substance of things hop- 
ed for, and the evidence of things not seen." 

Sense cannot introduce us to the invisible Majesty 
of heaven. It can only present us with his image. 
The pure, ethereal light — the blaze of a noontide sun 
— the azure heavens and revolving oi'bs — the mysteri- 
ous, eccentric comet — the insect curiously wrought, 
and the grass simply elegant — the thunder-storm — the 
lightning vivid and irresistible — the morning and eve- 
ning breeze— the verd^int plain and the elevated moun- 
tain — the sjlid earth, and the rolling seas — these ail 
reflect the glory of Deity, all bear the impress of his 
hand, all develope his wonderful agency — but they 
are net God himself. 

Reason ascends a little higher; and from the volume 
of nature, through the medium of sense, unfolds a little 
of the divine nature, and a few of his perfections. His 
immensity, his wisdom, his liberality, may be inferred 



44 

from every thing which I behold: but, alas, I affi still 
at a distance from God! What is he to me? What 
does he require? Have I disobeyed the dictates of rea- 
son at any time? or neglected to serve him? If so will 
he pardon sin? and how am I to receive forgiveness? 
Neither reason nor sense can answer these inquiries^ 
nor silence the clamors of conscience. 

It is faith rising on the wing of Revelation that 
introduces me into the heaven of heavens, unlocks the 
mystery, and unfolds the seven-sealed book. Here I 
read the covenant of mere v. Here I receive the 
promise of pardon. Here I learn all that I would 
know, and anticipate all that I shall hereafter enjoy. 
The pressure of the ills of life is lightened; and I "en- 
dure as seeing Him who is invisible.'^ 

Who can behold the fair structure of the heavens and 
the earth without feeling a powerful desire to under- 
stand their origin, and to be acquainted, in some meas- 
ure at least, with the architect who reared them? Cold 
is the heart which kindles not into devotion, v/hen the 
skies blaze with a thousand lamps; and grovelling the 
mind, which rises not through the system of the Uni- 
verse to the Great First Cause! Blind is that understand- 
ing which cannot see, amid the vicissitudes of seasons^ 
and the changing blessings of the Spriiig, the Summer, 
the Autumn, and the Winter, the superintendence of 
a faithful friend, and the bounty of an uawearied ben- 
efactor! Insensible is that man who can look upon 
this grand machinery, and live in the bosom of crea- 
tion, yet perceive no harmony, no order, no loveliness, 
no design; or upon whom they make no impression! 
Let the friend of mij choice be one who can relish the 
majesty of nature: who, on the close of the day, from 
the summit of some lofty mountain, will watch the 



45 

rising cloud, and observe the evening spread her gray 
and dusky mantle over the features of the landscape, 
till they are lost and extinguished: whose eye is fixed 
with delight on the stars as they break one by one 
through the increasing obscurity; and who withdraw 
ing from the world, and penetrating the forest, can re- 
joice with the laughing scenes around him^ and can 
relish retirement, nor envy the dissipation of life, as 
he hears its noise swelling on the gale of the evening. 
The Friend of God, and the Admirer of nature, is the 
man whom I would choose as my companion, and 
love as my own soul. 

It is not possible for the spirit of man to be encircled 
with the present Deity, without inquiring after the 
fountain of existence. Everything above us, around 
us, beneath us, — lives. Every clod of earth teems 
with animation. Every drop of water swarms with 
animalcules; imperceptible indeed to the naked eye, 
but plainly visible when the organ of vision receives 
assistance from art. Probably myriads floating in 
the air which we breathe, are drawn into the lungs in 
the act of respiration. Curiosity must stimulate our 
inquiries, even if we had no other, and no better mo- 
tives: nor can we examine, without emotions of grati- 
tude, a system in which every thing ministers either 
to our necessities or to our convenience. 

In truth, men of all ages, and at every period of 
time, have been solicitous to understand their own or- 
igin and that of things around them. Every power 
of the mind has been exerted, and no pains has been 
spared, in attempting to unravel this mystery. The 
spirit has been overwhelmed with extravagant and 
clashing hypotheses: or the man has sat down con- 
tented with uncertain rumors, and mutilated tradi- 



- 46 

tions. The stream of his knowledge rose from the 
pure and undefiled fountain of Revelation; but it gath- 
ered pollution from the channels through which it 
passed, before he stooped to drink its defiled wave. 
The systems formed by Reason, and that suggested by 
Revelation, are each to pass in review; and when they 
are contrasted, we hope to prove, that the mosaic 

ACCOUNT OF THE CREATION IS THE ONLY RATIONAL 
ONE WHICH WE HAVE RECEIVED. 

The different hypotheses of men, who either had 
not received Revelation, or who have refused its testi- 
mony and denied its pretensions, may be reduced to 
one of these two divisions: either that the world was 
the production of chance, or that it is eternal. The 
several opinions of ancient and modern times, appear 
to be neither more nor less, than ramifications or mod- 
ifications of the one or the' other of these systems. 
We shall examine them separately. 

I. THAT THE WORLD WAS PRODUCED BY CHANCE, 

When we behold a complicated, yet harmonious 
and well-constructed machine, we may be ignorant of 
the hand that formed it, but we find no difficulty in as- 
signing it a maker. No rational man would ever imag- 
gine that it was the production of chance: and if the 
idea were suggested to him, he would reject it with 
disdain as an insult to his reason. I gaze with de- 
light upon a beautiful landscape-painting; color melts 
into color, and shade softens into shade. By the 
artful intermixture of light and of shadow, in some 
parts it dwindles into perspective; in others, it appears 
raised from the surface. Here, the figures seem to 
project from the canvass; and there the distant moun- 
tain bounding the horizon, just shews its diminished 



47 

elevation, scarcely distinguishable from the azure of 
the surrounding heavens. So exquisite is the combi - 
nation of the various tints; that the instant I see it, I 
discover in it the hand of a master. Who in this 
assembly gazing upon a transparent orrery, to have a 
correct idea of the motions of the earth, and of the heav- 
enly bodies, would suffer his imagination to rest for a 
moment on the supposition, that the machinery so ad- 
mirably adapted to a certain definitive purpose, was 
constructed merely by accident, without design, with- 
out skill, and without a maker? And shall any man 
attempt to persuade you, that the solar system, of 
which it is but an imperfect resemblance, was formed, 
arranged, and regulated by chance? Let me see it 
produce the orrery, before I give it credit for the con- 
struction of the system! It is strange that men should 
so easily agree in assigning to inferior productions some 
adequate cause, yet deny it to superior operations: that 
they should with such facility discover the agency of 
man in all his works, and yet not discern the hand of 
God in the visible creation. 

Plain sense, independent of laborious investigation, or 
superior intelligence, uncontaminated by corrupt princi- 
ples, and unbiassed by inveterate prejudice, is sufficient 
to overthrow this absurd system. Let but the man of a 
common understanding look abroad into the economy 
of nature, and give in his evidence. Ask him, whether 
chance placed a boundary to the restless waves, and said 
"hitherto shall ye come, but no further?" cr command, 
cd the mountain to rise decked with verdure, and break 
the clouds as they passed? or clothed the valley with 
corn, and turned the course of the rivulet through 
it, to water the young plantation? or drew an atmos- 
phere round this globe? or bade yonder worlds preserve 



48 

invariably the same orbit, during six thousand years, 
around the same luminary? Propose these questions to 
a mind of a common standard, accustomed to the ex- 
ertion of its own powers, and unacquainted with the 
dispute between Revelation and Skepticism: and it is 
impossible that they should be answered in the affirm- 
ative. It would be less insane to conclude that the ma- 
chine were self-constructed, and that chance disposed 
the several parts of the painting. 

Those who demand the voice of reason on this sub- 
ject shall be gratified by the testimony of a great man, 
to whom the light of Revelation never appeared. 
The mind of Cicero was too exalted to stoop to so de- 
grading an hypothesis. He asks, "Can I forbear to 
wonder that tliere should ever be a man who could 
persuade himself, that this beautiful and well-finished 
world was produced by the fortuitous floating together 
of certain solid and indivisible bodies, necessarily mo- 
ved by the force of their own gravity? I cannot im- 
agine why he, who can thus conclude, should not also 
think, that if innumerable types (formed of gold or of 
any other substance, and representing the letters of the 
alphabet,) were cast carelessly upon the ground, they 
would form the annals of Ennius, so as to be perfectly 
intelligible', but I much doubt whether chance would 
be able to produce a single verse. How then can these 
men assert that atoms without color,* without any 
of that quality which the Greeks call ^oidTvfluf, and 
without intelligence, floating together at random, 
should by accident form a perfect world; or rather, 

* The Epicureans imagined that color, heat, and similar qualities, be- 
long"ed only to compound bodies; and that size and weight -were the 
only properties of atoms; or roughness and smoothness, resulting from, 
their configuration. 

-j- Plastic. 



m 

.an infinity of worlds, some of which are at every 
point of time produced, as others perish? But if this 
accidental concourse of atoms can make a world, 
why does it never form a portico, an house, a temple^ 
a city, which might certainly be effected with much 
greater ease?"* 

Let us for a few moments select a part of the crea- 
tion of God as a full answer to the absurd system under 
consideration, and as an indisputable evidence of infi- 
nite ^kill and of omnipotent agency. We are about 
to turn your reflections upon yourselves. Contem- 
plate your own body: observe the union of its several 
parts, and their adaptation to tlie particular purposes 
for which they were designed. Mark the composition 
and configuration of the whole. What grace in move- 
ments! what beauty of countenance! what endless diver- 
sity of feature! what incomparable workmanship is per- 
eeptible in the whole frame! You discover bones,marvel- 
lously united, presenting a skeleton of the human form: 
fibres and nerves, fine and delicate in the extreme: mus- 
cles, possessing incredible strength, and singularly dis- 
posed; vessels, through which the stream of life fiows^ 
complicated, and branched into every part of the body: 
a spirit^ at an unknown moment, and in an unsearcJi- 
iile manner, superadded to give impulse to the whole 
machine. In consequence of every volition of the 
mind, this and the other muscle is in motion: but no 
one can define the union between matter and spirit: 
and philosophy in vain attempts to lay her finger upon 
the spring which agitates the vibrations of ten thou- 
sand invisible fibres. The whole mass of blood is per- 
petually circulating through every channel, and retuni' 



• Cic. de nat. de or. ii; 3TW, 



50 

ing to the heart black and improper for the purposes of 
life, till it has undergone an instantaneous chemical 
change, which is effected in the lungs by the air, and 
it flows on purified to pursue its unwearied course. 
If the air inhaled be unsuitable to perform this process, 
and unable to effect this change, immediate death is 
the inevitable consequence. Air, which has lost its 
elasticity in mines and similar places, or which is im- 
pregnated with mortal particles, has this sudden and 
awful influence upon the human frame. Who, with 
the smallest pretensions to reason, can affirm or believe 
that such complex machinery is the production of 
chance? Galen, a celebrated heathen, was converted 
from atheism by contemplating an human skeleton, 
persuaded that workmanship so exquisite, and design 
so manifest, demonstrated the existence of a Creator. 
Yet is this human frame but a very small part of the 
divine agency. The same skill is visible in every, the 
meanest, insect, submitted to our inspection. 

The Egyptians maintained the irrational system un- 
der consideration; and one should imagine that a more 
complete refutation could not be made, thai^ their 
own statement of it. Diodorus Siculus has preserved 
it, and we submit it to your examination. 

"At the commencement of all things, the elements 
of the heavens and the earth were blended, and th^y 
wore an uniform appearance. But afterwards these 
parts separated from each other, the world assumed 
the shape which we now behold, and the air received 
its perpetual motion. The fire ascended highest, be- 
cause the lightness of its nature impelled it upwards; 
and for the same reason the sun and the stars move in 
an invariable circle. But that part which was gross 
and muddy, as also the fluid, sank down into one 



51 

place, by the force of gravity. These elements per- 
petually floating and rolling together, from their mois. 
ture produced the sea, while from their more solid 
particles sprang the earth, as yet extremely soft and 
miry. But in proportion as the light of the sun began 
to shine upon it, it became solid; and the surface of it 
fermented by the warmth extracting its moisture, 
swelled, and exuded putrescences, covered over with a 
kind of thin skins, such as may still be observed in 
marshy or boggy places, when, the earth having been 
cool, the air is heated suddenly, and not by a gradual 
change. These putrescences, formed after this man- 
ner from the moisture of the earth extracted by the 
warmth, by night were nourished from the clouds 
spread all around, and in the day were consolidated 
by the heat. At length when these embryos were ar- 
rived at their perfect growth, and the membranes by 
which they were enclosed were broken by the warmth, 
all sorts of living creatures instantly appeared. Those 
that had a larger proportion of heat in their natures, 
became birds and soared on high. Those that w^ere of a 
gross and terrestrial kind, became reptiles and animals 
confined to the ground. While those who drew the 
most of their qualities from moisture, were gathered 
into an element corresponding with their natures, and 
became fish."* 

It is scarcely possible to conceive of any thing more 
confused, inexplicable, and unphilcsophical, than this 
hypothesis. Yet even in this account, deformed as it 
is by alterations, disguised by absurdity, and clouded 
with obscurity, something of the Mosaic system may 
be traced, which renders it probable that it might orig- 

* Diod. Sic. Lib. I. 



m 

inally have sprang from his representation of cliaos^. 
There is this essential diffeience: he makes order and 
beauty to arise out of confusion and deformity under 
the forming, superintending hand of Deity; ihey as- 
cribe it all to the agency of chance. When I speak 
of the Mosaic hypothesis, I would be understood to 
prefix his name to the scriptural system, only because 
he committed to writing the tradition of the genera- 
tions which preceded him up to the birth of time, and 
not to insinuate that he was the inventor o f the ac- 
count contained in the first chapter of Genesis. 

On the present occasion, and in the discussion of 
the present subject, I trust that it will be deemed suf- 
ficient if I merely mention a more modern hypothesis. 
It remained for the philosophers of the eighteenth cen- 
tury to discover that the earth and the other planets 
were originally parts of the sun, struck off from, that 
immense body by the concussion of comets, and 
whirled into infinite space, by the rapidity of their mo- 
tion acquiring their spherical form, and assuming their 
present appearance. It may be thought that this ac- 
count of the creation evinces the fertility of their im- 
aginations; but it may also be questioned whether it 
will place the laurel upon their heads, as accurate rea- 
soners, or as illumined and sound philosophers. Yet 
these are the men who arrogate to themselves the 
sole claim to reason, and who condemn as supersti- 
tious and irrational, all, who, rejecting their crude and 
extravagant systems, adhere to the plain, concise, and 
luminous account, transmitted to us by Moses. 

But it is time that we should pass on to thex^onsider- 
ation of the remaining hypothesis, viz. 



53 

II. THAT THE WORLD IS ETERNAL. 

Many celebrated names among the ancients sup- 
ported this opinion; of whom were Ocellus, Lucanui^^ 
Aristotle, the later Platonists, and Xenophanes, the 
founder of a sect called theEleatic. Plato himself ac- 
knowledged that the world was created by the hand 
of God. It was more over supported by many mod- 
ern philosophers; among whom we may number, 
Spinoza, Amalric, and Abelard; not to name those 
of our own day, some of whom hold the eternity of 
the world in its full sense; and others assign to it an 
antiquity much more remote than the scriptural ac- 
count will allow. The heathen poets at large counte- 
nanced the former opinion, which proves that the 
popular sentiment of the Pagan world was, that what 
we deem creation, sprang from a chaos of which they 
appear to have no correct notion, under the influence 
of mere chance.* 

There are several modifications of the hypothesis 
of the world's eternity; but we feel it our duty to as- 
sign the reasons which appear to us to overthrow it 
rather than to state the several senses in which it was 
held. 

1. A valuable writert has laid it down as an axiom, 
that if any thing be eternal it is also self-existent and 
immutable. For a being is the same with all its prop- 
erties taken together. We can have "no conception 
of any substance distinct from all the properties in 
which they inhere." On this principle, if any property 
be removed or destroyed, a part of that being would 
necessarily perish; which is inconsistent with its being 

* See note 2, at the end of the volume, 
t DoddrlclE^e's Lectures, xxiv, Part II, page 47. Demonstration — 
connected with the preceding chain of propositions. 



54 

necessary, and subverts its eternity as a wfioh. It can- 
not be said, that it is impossible for alterations to be made 
on the face of this globe, when its several parts are in- 
cessantly changing; and the inference, allowing this 
fact, is against its eternity. 

2. The same ingenious author has collected and 
enumerated at length,! several philosophical and as- 
tronomical objections against this system. These 
have been urged by various writers; and we shall be 
satisfied with simply naming them. They are found- 
ed upon those immutable laws of nature by which the 
several parts of this grand system act in unison, so far 
as they have been discovered, and are comprehensible 
to us, and which are acknowledged by the world at 
large. They are to this effect: That the projectile force 
of the planets is continually diminishing, therefore, had 
the present system of things been eternally the same, 
they would long since have fallen into the sun. That 
the sun itself is continually losing some of its light,how- 
ever small the proportion may be; and of course must 
have been utterly extinguished. That as the sun and 
the fixed stars are supposed to attract each other, they 
must, ere this, have met in the centre of gravity com- 
mon to the whole universe. That as many substances 
are constantly petrifying and ossifying, the whole earth 
must have undergone the same change. And that as 
hills are continually subsiding, the surface of the whole 
globe must, ages ago, have been reduced to a level: for 
if it be urged that the numbers of those so subsiding 
are counter-balanced by others which we may suppose 
to have been raised by earthquakes and other violent 
convulsions, we answer — that the numbers so raised 

t See Doddridge's Lecture* Part II, page 47—50. Qjiarto edilion. 



55 

must be sniall compared with those reduced: not to say, 
that mountains raised by earthquakes are for the most 
part hollow, and are therefore naturally more dispo- 
sed to subside and fall in. This hypothesis supposes 
that all mountains with which we are now acquainted, 
are the effects of earthquakes, (admitting that the ori- 
ginal ones, through the effects of time, had been level- 
led, which would doubtless have been the case had the 
world been eternal;) a supposition so absurd, that we 
need only appeal to such mountains as the Alps, the 
Peak of Teneriffe, and others, to overthrow it. Many 
others have been proposed, but we cheerfully leave 
these hypothetical speculations to the learned and the 
curious, the philosopher and the naturalist, and pass on 
to other considerations which we deem more important 
and more satisfactory. 

3. We have no credible history of transactions 
more remote than six thousand years from the present 
time. The Chinese, the Egyptians, the Chaldeans, 
and the Phenicians, have all laid claim to much high- 
er antiquity; but in bringing these pretensions to the 
teet, it is clearly manifest that they do not deserve 
the credit which they demand. Their chronology is 
so absurdly extended, as to exceed the bounds of pro- 
bability, and to excite suspicion in respect of the facts 
themselves, which are the subjects of their calculations. 
It has been stated, and rendered probabie by the learn- 
ed writers of the Universal History, in their account of 
the Tartars and the Chinese, that a great part of China 
was very thinly peopled so late as the year before 
Christ six hundred and thirty-seven, when the 
Scythians, under the conduct of Madyes, made an 
irruption into Upper Asia. We have a singular fact 
to state, which will prove that their boasted antiquity 



55 

really falls within the limits of the Mosaic chronology. 
For the evidence which we are about to produce, 
we are indebted to the discoveries of modern astron- 
omy. The Chinese have ever made a point of insert- 
ing in their calendars remarkable eclipses, or conjunc- 
tions of the planets, together with the name of that em- 
peror in whose reign they were observed. To these 
events they have also affixed their own dates. There 
is a very singular conjunction of the sun, moon, and 
several planets, recorded in their annals as having ta- 
ken place almost at the very commencement of 
their remote history. The far-famed Cassini, to as- 
certain the fact, calculated back, and decisively proved, 
that such an extraordinary conjunction actually did 
take place at China, on February the twenty- sixth, two 
thousand and twelve years before Christ. This falls 
four hundred years after the flood, and a little after the 
birth of Abraham.* Here are two important facts as^ 
certained. The one is, that the* Chinese are an ancient 
nation, although perhaps not at that time a very large 
one; and the other, that their pretensions to antiquity 
beyond that of Moses are unfounded: because this 
event, which they themselves represent as happening 
near the beginning of their immense calculations, falls 
far within the history and chronology of the scriptures. 
The Egyptians pretended in like manner to possess 
an exact narration for some myriads of years. Their 
inaccuracy is demonstrable from a plain matter of fact. 

• May 1 be penniited to recomtriend a small and well composed trea- 
tise, called "TAe Christian Officer's Fanoply^* written by an excellent ol- 
ficer of marines now living-, and personally known to me? It is published 
by Matthews. This singular fact is recorded in this little volume, whicli. 
is the best compendium of evidences in favor of the Bible, and the most 
familiar 1 have ever seen. The style of writing- adopted is at once en- 
tertaining and instructive; and I never received more of pleasure and of 
satisfaction, from anv book which I ever perused,. 



57 

They professed to preserve the records of other aneienC 
nations as well as of their own; and their evident falla- 
cy in relation to other empires, marks the dependance 
which we ought to place in their history respecting 
themselves; and proves that we should receive their 
calculations with great caution, and under considerable 
limitations. When Alexander entered with his victo- 
rious army into Egypt, the priests professed to shew 
liim out of their sacred annals an account of the Mace- 
donian and Persian empires through a period of eight 
4;housand years: while it appears from the best histor- 
ical accounts, that the Persian empire was not then 
three hundred years old: nor had the Macedonian been 
founded quite five centuries. In order to establish 
their chroiaology, tiiey make their fust kings, on their 
own calculations^ reign above twdve hundred years 
-each; and for the same reason the Assyrians make their 
monarchs reign above farty thousand years. We 
might adduce a variety of similar instances of unbound- 
ed license in the pretensions of the Chaldeans, Pheni- 
cians, and some other nations. But it is unnecessary 
to pursue the inquiry farther. Such extravagance de- 
feats its own purposes; since no dependance can be 
placed upon calculations so chimcricaL* 

4. We are able to ascertain the periods whm the 
most useful arts and sciences were invented; which 
could not be done with cert^inty^ had the world been 
eternal, because many of them would have been invol- 
ved and buried in the mist of extreme antiquity. Mark 
Ihe progress of science. Observe how soon it arrives 
at the perfection of which it is capable! What elucida- 
lion the revolution of a few ages throws ifpon theories 

' See FeRrson on the Creed: pag-e 5(8 — 60. Folio edition of 1659. Cprj- 
#uU also Siillingfleei's Orikjines bucrsi, 

8 



58 

pieviouslyobscure! In the lapse of comparatively a very 
few years, the hand of time uncovers a fund of knowl- 
edge", which was veiled in perplexity and uncertainty. 
How many useful arts are invented, and how many 
interesting discoveries are made in the course of a sin- 
gle century! Calculate upon the most tardy progress 
of the arts imaginable, and determine whether those of 
which we are now in possession are at all equal to that 
which we might reasonably expect, if the world had 
been eternal, and if human genius and industry had 
been gradually, however slowly, penetrating the dark- 
ness, and dispersing the cloud of ignorance? If it be 
urged that floods, and fires, and wars, with ten thou- 
sand nameless hypothetical desolations, may have de- 
stroyed a multitude of useful inventions; we answer, 
that the number of these must have been prodigious 
indeed, and absolutely inconceivable, to produce a de- 
vastation of the arts which should be able to counter- 
balance the inventions of science, which, on the suppo- 
sition of the world's eternity, might be expected. Nor 
could we with such facility determine the periods when 
these useful arts were discovered, if the chronology of 
the world really extended far beyond the Mosaic his- 
tory. Admit that the world were twenty thousand 
years old: we should necessarily be in uncertainty with 
regard to the rise of the most simple and useful inventions, 
because of their extreme antiquity. The fact, on the 
contrary, is simply this: that the necessaries and con- 
veniences of life, civilization and commerce, the inven- 
tions of the arts and sciences, the letters which we use, 
the language which we speak, have all known origin- 
als, may all be traced back to their first authors, and 
these all fall far within the circle of six thousand years, 
while none are found to exceed it—no, not one. 



59 

5. In the same manner we are able to trace the or^ 
igin of different nations; which we could not do with 
certainty had the world been eternal. We can look 
back to the beginning of the greatest empires, of the 
present day; and we can also mark the rise, the merid- 
ian splendor, and the decline of those which preceded 
them, till we arrive at a certain point beyond which 
we know nothing; and this point extends to about the 
standard assigned in the Mosaic account of the crea- 
tion. Should earthquakes and floods be again plead- 
ed as having destroyed nations as well as sciences, 
and thus reduced the world to a second infancy — if any 
had remainedjWe might naturally conclude that the most 
useful arts had been preserved, and that some wrecks 
of mighty nations would have survived the desolation, 
at least, to tell the tale of woe to succeeding genera- 
tions. But a system begins to be in danger, when 
those who maintain it are reduced to the necessity of 
supposing things which might, or might not, happen — 
where probabilities are against them — and when if 
their arguments are admitted, the slender causes they 
assign, are in themselves inadequate to the production 
of effects so extensive as they wish to establish. 

6. It may be necessary to notice a modern objection 
which has been urged against the Mosaic chronology; 
and which is designed to prove, that if the world be not 
eternal, it may still claim a much higher antiquity 
than is allowed in the Bible. It is in substance as fol- 
lows:* 

* These objections to the Mosaic clironolog-y are stated and refuted 
very much at iar^e u\ the Encyclopjedia Britannica, article EartL To 
the writer of this article I am indebted for the stHtement given above.; 
and for the most part I have adlicred to his lang-uage as best convey ins- 
his thoughts up )n the subject.. 



60 

"In pits or openings of ground in the neighborho'otl 
of Vesuvius and iEtna, beds of lava have been discov- 
ered at considerable depths below each other; and these 
in some places are covered with successive strata of 
vegetable mould. These different strata have pro- 
ceeded, it is said, from an equal number of irruptions 
from the mountain. Ten or twelve successive strata, 
overlaid with soil, have been discovered in the bowels 
of the earth; and it is strongly asserted, that, by dig- 
ging deeper, many more might be found. It is assum- 
ed that a thousand years at hast are necessary to 
the production of a soil sufficient for the nourishment 
and growth of vegetables upon these volcanic lavas. 
If this be granted, and twelve such strata have been 
discovered, the antiquity of the earth is immediately 
swelled to, at least, twelve thousand years: which is 
more than double the Mosaic chronology. This, then, 
is the point upon which the whole controversy turns; 
and the answers that have been given to this objection 
may be laid down in the following order: 

1. It is granted, by those who have written upon 
this subject, that some lavas are very solid, and others 
much less so. The one, of course, resists the opera- 
tions of time much longer than the other. This also 
is admitted. 

3. They have not determined of which sort the la- 
vas in question are, which is a material inquiry: since, 
if a thousand years were required for the more solid, 
a much less time would be necessary for the farina- 
ceous. 

3. Soil gradually increases by decayed vegetables, 
and the sediments of snows and rain: the thickness or 
thinness of the soil must therefore determine whether 
a greater or less time has been employed in the accu- 



61 

mulation: but these writers have not informed us of 
the dimensions of these subterraneous vegetable strata 
— another material circumstance in the calculation. 

4. Volcanic ashes and muddy water are some iimes 
thrown out, designed, as it should seem, by nature to 
repair the sterility occasioned by the lava; and these 
ought to be taken into the account, as materially as- 
sisting quickness of vegetative soil. 

5. They have, however, furnished us with the fol- 
lowing fact. The town of Herculaneum was destroy- 
ed by an irruption in the ninety-seventh year of the 
Christian era. 'There are evident marks, that the 
matter of^io; irruptions,' say they, 'has taken its course 
over Herculaneum; for each of the six strata of lava i& 
covered with a vein of good soil.^ Here then, w^e have 
their own authority for six strata of good Soil accumu- 
lated in less than seventeen hundred years: which, sup- 
posing them of equal thickness, instead of a thousand 
years, leaves us not three hundred for the production 
of each.'^ 

At best, then, this objection is hypothetical merely; 
and upon the testimony of the objectors, a thousand 
years are not only unnecessary to the production of 
such strata, but six of them have actually been formed 
in less than seventeen hundred years; or less than three 
hundred for each: and w^e therefore see no solid reason 
to induce us to sacrifice the chronology of Moses, to 
the uncertain doctrine of vegetable sfeiata. 

We produce only one other consideration against 
the opinion of the vvorld''s eternity; and that appears 
to us of very great importance: 

6. If the world is eternal, how has the tradition uf 
its beginning every where prevailed, although under 
different forms, among nations both barbarous and 



62 

civilized? We leave the skeptic who disputes the Mo- 
saic history, and the philosopher who asserts the eter- 
nity of the w^orld, to answer this inquiry — it is not our 
business. The fact cannot be denied. Not only is it 
to be found among the refined nations of antiquity, 
but barbarians who then chased, and savages who still 
puisne, the wild and brute inhabitants of their own 
inaccessible forests, had, aad yet have, some tradition 
of the creation of all things, it is not merely in Eng- 
land's metropolis, that infidelity is encountered with 
the history of the beginning of the world; tradi- 
tions of it are to be met with on the plains of Indostan, 
on the banks of the Ganges, and among every tribe 
and every nation, from the line of the equator to the 
circle of both the poles. It forms a part of every re- 
ligion in the known world. Every country, although, 
perhaps, claiming an antiquity higher than we allow, 
and supposing the world to have been produced by 
chance, does nevertheless admit that it had a beginning. 
This vs^as the universal doctrine of the heathen world; 
excepting that some of their philosophers, from the love 
of novelty, or the pride of distinction, disavowed the 
public sentiment. It was the common faith of all na- 
tions, and remains so. We appeal to the Phenician 
histories, to the Indians, and to the Egyptians. We 
read it in Linus, in Hesiod, in Orpheus, in Aratus, in 
Thales, and in a variety of Greek writers too large to 
lay before you; all of whom embrace the idea that the 
world was created, and not eternal. From these, the 
Romans borrowed the same doctrines. Ovid, who 
closely transcribed these opinions from the Greeks, has 
given a long and eloquent description of the formation 
of the heavens^ and the earth, and its several inhab- 



63 

itants.* We repeat our question, how was it possible 
for the tradition of a beginning to the world, to be so 
universally prevalent, and so universally received, 
through every age, if it were indeed eternal? 

From these representations we now wish to deduce 
a most interesting and important inference; and to es- 
tablish a truth which lies at the foundation of all relig- 
ion, natural and revealed — 

THE BEING OF A GOD. 

If we have in any respect succeeded in overturning 
the two hypotheses which have now passed under 
review: if the world be not the production of chance, 
and if it be not eternal; it follows, that it must hav^ 
been created — in order to which there must have been 
an infmite Architect. We have seen human reason 
led into labvrinths, from which it could not be extri- 
cated but by the friendly assistance of Revelation. To 
the eye of nature, all is obscurity. We haveVeceived 
decisive evidences from notorious facts, that when an 
investigation of these subjects has been attempted by 
men of the first talents, independently of this infallible 
guide, the mortifying and inevitable result has been, 
bewildered systems, trembling uncertainty, clashing, 
contradictory theories. "There is a path which no 
fowl knoweth, and which the vulture's eye hath not 
seen: the lion's whelps have not trodden it, nor hath 
the fierce lion passed by it." These secret paths are 
the operations of God, sought out by those who love 
him, and discovered only by the direction of his word, 
and the agency of his Spirit. Admit the being of a 
God, and all is clear and luminous. Every difficulty 
vanishes: for v^liat cannot Omnipotence perform? 

* Metam, L';!), \.. See tbe quotation, note 4, at \he end of lisc Volume. 



64 

^ The fool hath said in his heart there is no God." 
Can he deserve a milder name who holds his irration- 
al creed? All nature proclaims his existence; and every 
feeling of the heart is responsive to its voice. The in- 
stant we begin to breathe, our connexion with God is 
commenced, and it is a connexion which cannot be 
dissolved for ever. All other unions are formed for 
a season only: time will waste them: death will de- 
stroy them: but this connexion looks death in the 
face, defies the injuries of time, and is commensurate 
with the ages of eternity. The moment we are capa- 
ble of distinguishing between good and evil, our res- 
ponsibility to God is begun — it commences with the 
dawn of reason, it looks forward to the judgment seat 
as its issue. At every period, and under every circum- 
stance of human life, man still draws his existence 
from the ^'Fountain of life:" he may be cut off from 
society, but cannot be separated from God: he may 
renounce his fellow men, but neVer can burst the 
bonds of obligation by which he is held to his Maker, 
till he shall have acquired the power to extinguish that 
immaterial principle within him, which can never be 
subjected to decay or to dissolution. The last sigh 
which rends the bursting heart, terminates the corres- 
pondence between man and man; but strengthens the 
union between God and man. All the springs of en- 
joyment and of existence, are hidden in the Deity, and 
the fates of the human race are suspended in the bal- 
ances sustained by his unshaken arm. It is an object 
of the first magnitude, to learn something of the Be- 
ing, with whom we stand thus intimately and insepar- 
ably connected: who is light and warmth in the sun, 
softness in the breeze, power in the tempest, and the 
principle which pervades and animates, which regu- 
lates and sustains universal nature: but to deny his vx- 



65 

« 

sstence, is the madness of desperation, and the tem-eii- 
ty of presumption: of all insanity^ it is the worst; and 
of ail ingratitude, it is the deepest. I see him rolling 
the planets in their orbits, controlling the furious ele- 
ments, and stretching an irresistible sceptre over all 
things created. I see the globe suspended, and trem- 
bling in his presence; and the kingdoms of this world, 
absorbed in his empire, rising to distinction, or falling 
into irrecoverable desolation, according to the counsel 
of his will. My heart is not at ease. I am instruct- 
ed, but not tranquillized. The infinity of God over» 
whelms me: his majesty swallows me up: his inflexi- 
ble justice and purity fill me with dismay: his power 
makes me afraid. It is this volume which first brings 
me acquainted with him as God, and afterwards as a 
friend: which represents him at once the Creator and 
Redeemer of the human race; and while his attributes 
command my admiration, his mercy forbids my terror. 

TIIC MOSAIC AC€OUNT OF THE CREATION 

temains to be briefly examined. He conducts us at 
once to this great Architect: ''In the beginning Goi^ 
created the heavens and the earth.'' He represents the 
^arth, after its creation, as a dark fluid, and an unform- 
ed chaos, or mass of matter, which in six days God 
reduced to order, and disposed in its present form. 
"And the earth was without form, and void, and dark- 
ness was upon the face of the deep. And the spirit of 
God moved upon the face of the waters." A modern 
critic* has translated this passage, ^"a vehement wind 
oversweeping the surface of the waters." He founds 
his criticism upon the circumstance that the Hebreiy 

* Dr. Geddes. 



66 

language calls ^'thunder the voice of God; a great 
wind his breath; the clouds his habitation, his chad-, 
ot; the lightnings and winds his rainistersand messen- 
gers. &c." and the possibility of rendering the words 
D'^n^K nn either the spirit of God, or the wind of God, 
which he translates, a mighty wind, lie produces va- 
rious quotations from the scriptures, in which r\Ti 
must be rendered u^inc?, and accumulates much criti- 
cism to prove that this is the primary sense of the 
original word, and of the terms usually employed in 
translating it. An equal number of passages might 
easily be extracted from the sacred writers, in which 
mi would bear no other translation than spirit. Nei- 
ther is it quite clear that T\T\ signifies spirit only in a 
secondary and metaphorical sense: since by their ar- 
rangement of explanatory terms, lexicographers seem 
divided upon the subject.! Respecting D^'^SK there 
can be but one opinion; and while our translators 
have preserved the literal rendering of the words, the 
translation proposed is confessedly justified only on 
its resemblance to some Hebrew phrases, the corres- 
pondence of which may or may not be admitted. This 
premised, I object further to the rendering *'a vehe- 
ment wind," because a very beautiful idea suggested 
by the literal reading of the words is lost in that, 
adopted by this critic: an idea which is so well expres- 
sed by our inimitable poet,+ vi^ho was himself well 
versed in the original language of the Sacred Scriptures; 
and v/ho in his beautiful address to the Holy Spirit^ 
says, 

+ Pa; Vhn'-si p-nes, as its primary sense, <-"> in viotior.,- vhich corres- 
ponds ^vjth Dr. Gccldes's opinion: yet in his translation of Gen. i, 2, Park* 
liU'st rentiers the uorcis "the spirit rf the A/eivi:*' Siockius Gfives, as the 
pr'MiHrv Hense, sfiritHs, ; hen t;cntus, £vC. How laile can be interred from 
vei ortl critiCJ3:n ! ^ 

^ Milton. 



67 

"Thou from the fi, st 
Wast present, aod with mighty wings outspread, 
J)ove-Uke, satst brooding' on the vast abyss. 
And madst it p^^gnmit." 

Bat it was impossible to maintain the simple transla- 
tion, without admitting a doctrine, which this critic 
could not reconcile with the religious principles which 
he had adopted, the personality of the Holy Spirit;t and 
he therefore substituted one which did not clash with 
his sentiments: and on the same principle I prefer the 
common reading of our Bibles, because it accords 
with a system which appears to me both rational and 
scriptural, and which does include the personality of 
this divine Agent; and because the words are by our 
translators literally rendered. 

The first thing which appeared waslighi; the separ- 
ation of which from darkness, was the work of the 
first day, "And God said, let there be light; and 
there was light." A mote simple and more literal 
translation is, 'Be light; and light Wcis." This very 
passage, in its connexion, has been marked by the ele- 
gant Longinus, as a specimen of the true siiblime.l Nor 
did it escape the observation of the psalmist, who has 
well expressed it. "lie spake, and it was done: he 
commanded, and it stood fast." 

On the second day. God made an expansion: for so 
the HelTv^w word y*>'p"n which our translators have 
rendered "firmamerit," implies. It is derived from a 
root which signifies "outstretching," and corresponds 
with that beautiful passage in Isaiah xl, 22. "It is he 

f Dr. Cedlcs lias, said, "those who have found jn tliis passag-e the 
person of lUe tjoi.v Ghos i, have been very hltle versed in tlie langMiage 
orihe Eust; and paid vlj-) little attention lo the consUHiciion of'llie text.'* 
So ea-^y is it to deal in bold and unqualified assertions, and call them 
critical remarks. Sureij, he fjrtjoi that iVidton was an Hebrew scholar 
ofiiocoiriiiioa siandard. 

4 See note 5, at the end of the volume. 



6S 

fhat siveicheth out the heavens a$ a curtain, and 
spreadeth them out as a tent to dwell in." It is the 
atmosphere which surrounds our globe, and which 
possesses density sufficient to sustain the waters above 
it. Its design said Moses, is, ''to divide the waters that 
are above this firmanent" — or atmosphere, "from the 
\vaters that are under this expansion.'^ This atmos- 
phere is perpetually drawing up particles of water, till 
they accumulate, and become too heavy for the air to 
sustain them, and fall in showers of rain. 

On the {Jiird day, the earth w as drained, and the 
waters which before triumphed over its surface, were 
gathered into one grand receptacle. The land appear- 
ed, dry and fit for vegetation — received the name 
^'Earth" — and produced, at the Divine command, 
herbs, plants, trees, and all the endless varieties of the 
%^egetable world, bearing their several seeds and fruits, 
according to their different kinds. The congregated 
w^aters he called "seas;'^ and drawing boundaries 
around them, he said "Hitherto shall ye come, but no 
farther; and here shall your proud waves be stayed." 

On the fourth day, the sun and moon were formed, 
and placed in the heavens to illuminate the earth, to 
distinguish between day and night; to divide, and to 
rule the revolving seasons of the year. '^He made the 
stars also." 

On the ffih day, were created fishes, and the 
swarming, multiform inhabitants of the hoary deep, 
the fowls of heaven, and whatsoever flieth in the ex- 
pansion above us: these all were produced from tlie 
waters. 

On the sixth day, were formed all terrestrial ani- 
mals. Then also man, his last, best work, was "fash- 
ioned" from the "dust of the earth," and animated 



69 

with "a living soul." Of man he formed the wosian^ 
*'to be an help meet for him." 

^'Thusthe heavens and the earth were fmislied, and 
all the host of them." And ^'God rested ii om his 
work, and blessed the seventh day^ and sanctified it/' 
as a sabbath to the man and to his posterity. 

Such is the Mosaic account of the creation, leading 
us up to God as the Creator and Disposer of all things; 
affording, beyond controversy, the most ra^zonaZ of the 
hypotheses presented to you; and while it has left the 
way open for philosophic inquiries, it has not said any 
thing to gratify vain curiosity. We will attend to some 
few questions which have been often suggested from 
this representation of the beginning of all things, and 
conclude this Lecture, which has already been drawn 
out to a great length. 

1. What was the light that made its appearance be- 
fore the creation of the sun? In considering this ques- 
tion, which cannot be solved, and which is a matter of 
opinion altogether, various conjectures have been 
formed. Some have called it elemental fire. Some 
have supposed that it resembled the shekinah, A sim- 
ilar representation of it is made by our immortal bard: 

•' 'Let there be light,' said Gotl, and forthwith light 
Ethereal, first of things, quintessence pure, 
Sprung from the deep, and from her native east] 
To journey through the airy gloom began, 
Spher'd in a radiant cloud, for yet the sun 
Was not; she in a cloudy tabernacle 
Sojourn 'd the while*"* 

The critic, to whom we have before referred, suppos- 
es it to have been "an emanation of the same sun 
that still enlightens us; and which, although it had 
not yet appeared in its full glory, yet shed sufficient 

Par. Lost, book vii, 1.243 --249. . 



70 

light through the dense atmosphere, to make the s jr- 
face of the terraqueous globe visible. "t But as I feel 
inclined to give implicit credit to the Mosaic account, 
in its literal signification, which affirms that the sun 
and moon were made on the fourth day, and that *'God 
commanded the light to shine out of darkness*' on the 
firsts I should rather imagine it to be the same parti- 
cles of light diffused^ which were afterwards callecied 
into one body — the sun. J But of these various opin- 
ions the reader will judge for himself. 

2. Does the Mosaic account oppose the present sys- 
tem of astronomy? 

The language of the scriptures expresses simply 
the appearance of things, and neither sanctions nor 
opposes any system of philosophy. It has left the 
road of knowledge and research perfectly open; and 
neither forbids, nor adopts, the hypotheses of those 
who have explored the heavens, and with laborious 
and useful skill, developed the laws by which the great 
system, of which this globe constitutes a part, seems to 
be regulated. When in common language we say — 
"the sun rises, and sets" — we do not mean to oppose 
the Newtonian, or any other astronomical system, but 
merely to express the apparent motion of this grand 
luminary. It is the beauty of the scriptures, that their 
language is perfectly conformable to our ideas, and 
therefore on most subjects falls within the grasp of our 
comprehension. And we ought to recollect that the 
design of this volume is not to develope the laws of 
nature, but to lead us along the narrow path which 

I Dr Geddes' Crit. Rem. on Gen. c, i. ver. 3, vol. J. p. 14; quarto, 
' + I do not profess to oflfer this livpolhesis as clear of objection and cfif 
ficulty; but it is the best which occiiis to nie, and is aliovviiLle vlitie 
every thing- must be merely hypothetical. 1 am liuppy to hear that this 
thought corresponds -with one sueg'esied in Mr. Fuller's c(;nimcnti!iy 
on Genesis, just published; which, hovever, 1 have net yet had an op- 
porlunity of consuUing, 



71 

conducts to heaven; not to guide our feet through the 
orbits of planets, but to direct them to the throne of 
the invisible God. 

3. Does the Mosaic account of the creation extend 
to the universe at large? This is an inquiry which 
cannot be decided. Some have concluded that the 
earth, the sun, and the moon, only belong to this histo- 
ry. Others restrict it to the solar system. Others 
extend jfc to the wide universe. The circumstances of 
the creation, as related by Moses, apply principally to 
the globe which we inhabit. The sun and the moon 
are mentioned as formed at the same period, and 
are evidently included in the account, because of 
their connexion with, and advantao^e to the earth. But 
the phrase, "He made the stars also" — seems to advert 
to the great universe; and may lead us to presume, that 
the creation of all things was effected at one and the 
same time. 

4. In what sense are we to understand the term "six 
days" — as literal, or as allegorical? A critic,* whom 
we have had occasion to mention more than once, 
boldly pronounces it "a beautiful mythos, or philo- 
sophical fiction." — Some of the ancient Christian Fa- 
thers esteemed it allegorical. I confess, however, that 
my reverence for this volume, makes me very reluc- 
tant to resolve into allegory, any thing which wears 
the appearance o^ a fact on its pages; much more so, to 
venture to call it a fable. The folio wing^ reasons de- 
termine me in concluding, that IVIoses designed it as a 
statement of facts, and that we ought to understand the 
phrase, ''six days," in its literal sense: 

The seventh day was instituted as a Sabbath, that 
in it the man might rest from his labor, and more im- 
mediately serve his gracious Creator; and the reason; 

• Dr. Geddes, 



72 

the only reason, assigned for ifc in the promulgation of 
the law was, that "in six days the Lord made heav- 
en and earth, the sea and all that in them is; where- 
fore the Lord blessed the seventh day, and hallow- 
ed it." 

This is the reason always produced, when the institu- 
tion of the Sabbath is at all named; and in consequence 
of it, the seventh day was observed, till the resurrec- 
tion of Christ on th^ first day. of the week: when, in 
perpetual remembrance of this great and glorious 
event, ih^ first day became the Christian sabbath, and 
the seventh was laid aside. 

The apostle who wrote to the Hebrews, quotes this 
passage from Genesis, in the second chapter, and at 
the fourth verse, of his epistle: — ''And God did rest the 
seventh day from all his works." In his reasoning up- 
on this passage, he makes no one remark, which dis- 
covers the least approximation to an allegorical inter- 
pretation; much less did he seem to regard it as "a 
beautiful mythos:" on the contrary, every thing which 
he says throughout that chapter, appears to ascertain 
very clearly, that he understood the phrase, "six days" 
used by Moses, in its literal sense. 

5. Can any reason be assigned for the number of 
days fixed upon, and occupied in this great work? 
Certainly not. We dare not attempt to fathom the 
divine designs; nor is the Deity to be judged at ahu- 
man tribunal. Perhaps (for what can be offered but 
conjecture?) he carried on his work in progression, and 
chose six days for the performance of that, which he 
could have effected, had he been so disposed, in an in- 
stant, to shew that he is a "God of order and not of 
confusion." It is thus also, that he works in provi- 
dence, and in grace. His plans are gradually develop- 
ed; his wisdom graduily manifested; his will gradually 



73 

accomplished; his designs gradually con.pleted. And 
possibly he chose only six days; to demonstrate his 
unbounded power, that could perform so immense a 
work in so short a space of time. 

6. How could Moses be fitted to give an account 
of the creation? There can be no difficulty in answer- 
ing this question, if it be allowed that he was divinely 
inspired: but we may account for his ability to record 
the circumstances of the creation in a way which will be 
more satisfactory to the wavering. It is no improbable 
conjecture, that in the earliest ages of the world, God 
communicated his will to pious individuals, and per- 
mitted them to transmit it to others by oral tradition; 
for in those days the longevity of man favored this 
mode of conveyance. It will be admitted, that Ad- 
am, could not be ignorant of the circumstances of the 
creation. With Adam, Methuselah lived two hundred 
and forty-three years: withMethuselah,Shem the son of 
Noah, lived about ninety-seven years; and with Shem, 
Jacob, the grandson of Abraham, lived fifty years, ac- 
cording to the chronology of the history of Genesis. 
On this calculation, no more than three persons, Me- 
thuselah, Shem, and Jacob, were necessary to trans- 
mit this account, together with the knowledge and 
worship of God, from Adam to the time when thq 
children of Israel went down into Egypt, through a 
period of two thousand two hundred and thirty-eight 
years. It is easy to conceive how it came into the 
hand of Moses: for his grandfather, Amram, lived a 
considerable time, both with Joseph, the son of Jacob, 
and with the Jewish lawgiver, the writer of this history, 
himself. When the life of man was shortened, and 
the nations had become corrupt through idolatry, 
oral tradition was no longer a safe vehicle or convey - 
10 



74 

ance; and God therefore communicated a revelatton 
of his mind and will, which was committed to writing. 
In retracing the outline of the preceding Lecture; 
and contrasting the scriptural relation of the beginning 
of all things with other hypotheses; 1 trust, that the 
proposition, announced for elucidation this day, has 
been established: That the Mosaic account ob^ 

THE CREATION, IS THE ONLY RATIONAL ONE WHICH WE 
HAVE RECEIVED. 

''Nevertheless we, according to his promise, look for 
new heavens and a new earth; wherein dwelletb 
righteousness." 



LECTURE Ilf, 

THE DELUGE. 



11—24. 

In the six hundredih year of Noah^s life, in the sec- 
ond month, the seventeenth day of the mouthy the 
same day were all the fountains of the great deep 
broken up, and the windows of heaven xmire opened. 
And the rain was upon the earth forty days and 
forty nights. In the selfsame day entered Noah, 
and Shem, and Ham, and Japheth, the sons of Noah, 
and Noah^s wife, and the three wives of his sons 
with them into the ark: They, and every beast 
after his kind, and all the cattle after their 
kind, and every creeping thing that creepeth up- 
on the earth after his kind, and every fowl 
after his kind, every bird of every sm^t. And 
they went in unto Noah into the ark, two and 
two of all flesh, wherein is the breath of life. 
And they that went in, went in male and female of 
all flesh, as God had commanded him: and the Lord 
shut him in. And the flood was forty days upon 
the earth and the waters increased, and bare up the 
ark; and it was lift up above the earth. And the 
waters prevailed, and were increased greatly upon 
the earth: and the ark went upon the face of the 
waters. And the waters prevailed exceedingly up- 
on the earth: and all the high hills, that were un- 
der the whole heaven^ nfoere covered. Fifteen cubits 



76 

upward did the waters prevail; and the mountains 
were covered. And all flesh died, that moved upon 
the earth, both of fowl and of cattle, and of beast, 
and of every creeping thing that creepeth upon the 
eaiih, and every man. All in whose nostrils was 
the breath of life, of all that was in the dry land, 
died. And every living substance was destroyed 
which was upon the face of the ground, both man, 
and cattle, and the creeping things, and the fowl of 
the heaven; and they were destroyed from the earth: 
and Noah only remained alive, and they that were 
with him in the ark. And the tvaters prevailed up- 
on the earth, an hundred and fifty days. 

2 PET. Ill, 5 — 7. 
For this they willingly are ignorant of, that by the 
word of God the heavens were of old, and the earth 
standing out of the water and in the water. Where- 
by the world that then was, being overflowed with 
water, perished. But the heavens and the earth 
which are now, by the same word are kept in store, 
reserved unto fire against the day of judgment, and 
perdition of ungodly men. 

IT is impossible to read the history of empires which 
once gave laws to the world, to trace the sources of 
their gradual decay, and to contemplate them in ruins, 
without emotions of pity and regret. The man who 
visits the spot where ancient imperial Rome stood, 
and held through many successive ages a boundless 
dominion over the commotions of the world, and finds 
only the sad monuments of decayed greatness, must pos- 
sess feelings peculiar to himself, if no melancholy sen- 
sations arise in his heart to accord with the desolations 



without. Where her awful senate convened, time 
strides over the ruin,and writes on the broken triumphal 
arch, ''The glory is departed." The traveller, as he 
sits upon a prostrate pillar, hears no sound but the pas- 
sing wind, as it sighs along the weed-encompassed por- 
tico of some mouldering temple. The amphitheatre, 
once crowded with the masters of the globe, now shel- 
ters the bat, and the serpent; and affords an asylum to 
the owl from the glare of noonday. Who, that has 
an heart to feel, ean wander among the crumbling ves- 
tiges of ancient grandeur, without dropping a tear over 
the scene of desolation, and exclaiming, ''So sets the 
sun of earthly majesty, to rise no more for ever?" 

But the destruction which now demands our atten- 
tion, is of much wider extent, and of infinitely greater 
magnitude. Not a city, nor an empire, but a w^orld in 
ruins, is the subject of contemplation. A new and 
awful view of Deity is conveyed to the mind. We 
behold him, not descending in mercy wafted on the 
wings of angels, amid the full chorus of heaven, to 
spread his golden compasses over the vast abyss, and to 
describe the circle of the earth; calling universal nature 
from discord and chaos; lending radiance to the sun, 
and immensity to the spheres; impressing his image up- 
on man; constituting him lord of the creation; placing 
the diadem of glory upon his head, and the sceptre of 
authority in his hand: but we contemplate the ojffended 
Majesty of Heaven, arrayed in vengeance; terrible in 
fury; clothed in all the thunder of his power; arming 
the elements against his adversaries; and opening the 
dreadful artillery of his wrath upon a guilty world. 

When God completed the creation, he beheld in the 
harmony and magnificence of his work, the perfect 
transcript of his own vast design, and pronounced the 



78 

whole, and all its several parts, "very good." By art 
early act of disobedience, man broke the law of his 
Maker; and not only cancelled the bond of his own 
happiness, but blotted the hand-writing of Deity in the 
volume of nature. The fall of man, as a point of doc- 
trine, comes not within the department of this course 
of Lectures: it is our business simply to insist upon it 
as a fact recorded in the Scnptures,which ten thousand 
different and fatal effects produced by it, tend to estab- 
lish. To this fact, as a source, must be traced up every 
calamity which wrings a tear from the eye, every 
pang which extorts a groan from the heart, and every 
stroke of mortality which descends upon our connex- 
ions. Sin having found its way into the world, was 
followed by death and a long train of attendant miser- 
ies. The yawning tomb presented itself to the man 
at the end of this valley of tears, and the grave was the 
termination of his fondest hopes: to the earliest race of 
men, as to us, it was the limit to the longest period of 
existence. A life of "nine hundred sixty and nine 
years," like a summer's day, had its dawn, its morn- 
ing, its meridian, its decline: it yielded to the lengthen' 
ing shadows of the evening; and gradually sunk into 
the gloom of a midnight silent and impenetrable. 

Who will be able to set boundaries to vice? When 
the floodgates are once opened, who shall presume to 
check the torrent, or attempt to stay the impetuosity 
of the rushing waters? The rivulet, increased in its 
eourse by the constant accession of innumerable, tri- 
butary streams, swells into a flood, and rolls a deep, si- 
lent, resistless river, which is at length lost in the bos- 
om of the ocean. Such was the progression of iniqui- 
ty. Small in its beginning; it rapidly augmented, till 
it had covered the whole earth. Man added sin to 



79 

sin, till the measure of his transgression Was full, and 
the long-slumbering wrath of heaven burst over his 
unsheltered head. He who can think lightly of sin, 
and wantonly or deliberately walk in the paths of 
temptation, resembles a man who suffers his little bark 
to approach the circumference of a whirl-pool: at first 
the vessel glides on in gentle, wide, and almost im- 
perceptible, circumvolutions: continually, however, ap- 
proaching the centre, and bearing the wretch thither 
with increased velocity, till in defiance of effort, the vi- 
olence of the current prevails, and all is ingulfed in the 
illimitable abyss. 

Before the subject, which is to occupy our present 
attention, is considered at large, the intermediate his- 
tory, which demands elucidation, ought to pass in re- 
view before us. One of the most extraordinary cir- 
cumstances, attending the antediluvian history, is the 
astonishing duration of human life in those days, con- 
trasted with the brevity of our own. Some have con- 
jectured, that the years ascribed to these first men, 
were lunar, and not solar. To consider them as 
months, would release us from one difficulty, but it 
must involve us in another still more considerable. 
Among other objections, the following may be deem- 
ed unanswerable: First, this calculation reduces their 
lives to a shorter period than our own: Secondly, 
some of them must have been fathers under, or about, 
six years of age: Thirdly, it contracts the interval be- 
tween the creation and the deluge, to considerably less 
than two hundred years even admitting the larger cal- 
culation of the Septuagint.* 

\* The common calculation settles the date of the flood at 1^55 vears 
aft^H- the creation i but the Septuagint places it in the vear of the wcrid 
2262. 



80 

The account of this longevity, however, is not res- 
tricted to the Mosaic history: but is corroborated by 
various ancient writers. Upon this subject, Josephus 
enumerates the testimonies of Manetho, Berosus, Mo- 
chus, Hestseus, Jerome the Egyptian; the writers of 
the Phenician antiquities, Hesiod, Hecatseus; Hellani- 
cus, Acusilaus, Ephorus, and Nicholas, who generally 
agreed that "the ancients lived a thousand years."* 

We have accumulated these names to shew, that 
these men either were in possession of traditions relating 
to this fact, upon which their assertions are founded; 
or that they borrowed them from Moses: and in ei- 
ther case our purpose is answered. For if they receiv- 
ed them from prevalent traditions, it will be granted 
that these traditions had originally some foundation in 
fact; and they correspond with the sacred history. 
But if they borrowed them from Moses, two points 
are gained on our part. It is proved, on this principle, 
that such a man as Moses did really exist; that his 
writings were then extant; that they were in substance 
what they now are; and that they bear an antiquity 
more remote than these, which are allowed to be the 
most ancient of the heathen writers. It is proved fur- 
ther, that his history was highly esteemed; and that it 
was supposed, by these writers, to contain facts. 
Whether they drew from Moses, or from tradition; and 
whether their testimony sprang from his narra- 
tion, or from any other source; either way, the Mosa- 
ic account of these early ages, is corroborated by the 
oldest fragments of antiquity. 

Various inquiries have been agitated respecting the 
principles on which we may reasonably account for 

* See note 1, at the endof the volume- 



81 

this longevity; and it will be readily granted that the an- 
swers attempted are founded upon opinion only. 
Some have imputed it to the temperance of the antedi- 
luvians, and their simplicity of diet. Others have im- 
agined that it arose from the superior excellence of 
their fruits, or some peculiar salubrity in the herbs of 
Ihose days. A third class of philosophers have stated, 
that it proceeded from the strength of their stamina^ 
or first principles of bodily constitution; that they had 
an organization more vigorous, and a frame more ro- 
bust. This has been admitted, by some, to be a 
concurrent, but not a sole and adequate cause: since 
Shem, who was born before the flood, and, it is to be 
presumed, had therefore all the stres^gth of an antedi- 
luvian constitution, fell short of the age of his fathers 
three hundred years. In addition, therefore, to natural 
bodily energy, it is probable that there was a tempe- 
rature of the air; and an adaptation of the general state 
of the earth, to the production of this extraordina- 
ry longevity, which temperature was destroyed by thu 
Deluge. But there is no way of completely answering 
such inquiries, but by referring immediately to the will 
and power of Him, who is ''wonderful in counsel, and 
excellent in w^orking.'' 

Moses relates also an union which took place be- 
tween the family of Seth and the descendants of 
Cain: for so w^e interpret the phrase, ^'Sons of God,'' 
and "daughters of men.'' It is generally believed that 
the sons of Seth had, till that time, preserved the wor- 
ship of God, with correspondent purity of lite, while 
it is agreed that the posterity of Cain were given over 
to "vile affections;" and on this supposition the fitness 
of the terms used, and the propriety of their applica- 
tion to the respective parties, will not be disputed. This 
11 



82 

ftfct al union totally destroyed the principles of holine^ 
which a part of the human race had preserved from 
extinction; and when from this commerce sprang 
^'mighty men/' and "men of renown," "the" whole 
"earth was" quickly "filled with violence." "There 
were " also, "giants in the earth in those days." Wc 
understand the term literally, as implying, not merely 
men of violence, but of extraordinary bulk and stature. 
And why should this account be disputed, when con- 
firmed by so many ancient writers? Pausanias, Philo- 
stratus, Pliny, and others, speak decidedly of the re- 
mains of gigantic bodies discovered in their days.* 
^'Upon the rending of a mountain in Crete, by an 
earthquake," says this last mentioned natural historian, 
*'there was found standing upright a gigantic body.'* 
Josephus speaks of bones seen in his days, of a magni- 
tude that almost exceeded credibility. Even Homer, 
who wrote three thousand years ago, speaks, from tra- 
dition, that, in his "degenerate days," the human frame 
was dwindled down into half its size. It is not necessa* 
ry to contend, nor is it intimated in the Mosaic account, 
that the bodies of men in general were of such prodi- 
gious dimensions: all that we wish to prove is, that 
"there were giants in those days;" that there were, prob- 
ably, many of them; and that this scriptural relation 
is abundantly confirmed by profane historians. 

At this time, fraud and injustice, rapine and violence, 
according to the sacred writer, extended themselves 
over the face of the earth. Is he singular in this declar- 
ation? Who that has read the records of antiquity, may 

*See Doddridge's Leclures, Part vi, Prop.cix.&c. p. 293, §5, 4to, edit. 
Grotius de Verit Relig. Christ. §xvi. notes. Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. v. c. 
16. Consult also Dr. Geddes* Criticism on Gen.vi, in which he es- 
pouses an opposite opinion from that stated above: but,as it appears to the 
writer of these Lectures, one, which reflects less credit upon the veracity 
of Moses, as an historian; and destroys his claim to inspiration. 



not gather a confirmation of his statement, from their 
deposition? Who that is conversant with the fables of 
the heathen poets, may not extract this truth from the 
cumbrous mass of fiction by which it is overwhelmed. 
A golden age gradually degenerating into an iron one, 
has been sung by a thousand bards, whose silent harps 
have long since mouldered away with the ashes of 
their masters! Which of the ancient poets, did not cel- 
ebrate these times? or deplore their extinction? Catul- 
lus* has stated this fact nearly in the terms used by 
Moses; and has amplified his expressions so largely, as 
to present almost a commentary upon the sixth chap- 
ter of Genesis. Ovidt tells the same tale; and repre- 
sents his injured justice driven from men by the hand 
of rapacity, and seeking shelter in her native heavens. 
Amidst this general depravity, was issued a solemn 
declaration from heaven; "My spirit shall not always 
strive with man." Yet was not sudden and silent 
destruction, commissioned to destroy the guilty. The 
patience and pity of God, were manifested even in his 
rising indignation. Enoch and Noah were "preach^ 
ers of righteousness;" and a space of one hundred and 
twenty years was allotted to the offenders for repent- 
ance. Enoch, in the mean time, was received into 
heaven "without tasting of death;" and Noah having 
closed his unavailing ministry, entered into the ark, 
constructed according to the pattern given by God 
himself with his family, and the pairs of all living ani- 
mals. For the world they "were eating and 

* In his Epithalamium of Peleus and Thetis: see note 2, at the end o|' 
Uie volume. 

i Victa jacet pielas; et v-rgo ceede madentes 
Ultima cceleslum terras Astrea reliquit. 

Oxides Met a- / 
Faith flies! and piety in exile mourns; 
And justice, iicre oppressV!, to heav'n relurrts.l 



82 

drinking, marrying, and giving in marriage, and knew 
not till the flood came and swept them all away!" 

The subject of the present Lecture is, The Deluge; 
and the arrangement which we propose is — To estab- 
lish the fact: to state the hypotheses of some writers 
who have attempted to account for it: to meet some 
objections raised against it: and to suggest an im- 
provement of it. We shall endeavor 

h TO ESTABLiSH THE FACT. 

The evidence upon which we would fix your atten- 
tion, is simply: — The general and concurrent consent 
of nations; and the existence of vast quantities of ma- 
rine productions on the tops of mountains, and under 
the surface of the ground to considerable depths, over 
the whole earth, and at all distances from the sea. 

1. The general and concurrent consent of 
NATIONS.— .This is an argument in iavor of an univer- 
sal deluge, which has never been fairly met: nor indeed 
does it appear capable of satisfactory solution on any 
principle but the admission of the fact. It has been 
most forcibly maintained, that antiquity is full of tes- 
timonies relating to this singular event; that the whole 
heathen mythology sprang from traditions of the 
deluge; and that Prometheus, Deucalion, Atlas, Theuth, 
Zuth, Xuthus, Inachus, Osiris, Dagon, and others, were 
all different names by which Noah was intended. 
*The traditions o'f the destruction of the globe, partially 
or entirely, by waters, are found among the fragments 
of the most ancient heathen writers; pervade India; 

*The ingenious writer, who has, with equal ability and success, col- 
lected all the lestimoTiies of antiquity, and unveiled the mysteries con- 
cealed tinder tlieir fables, is Mr. Bryant, in his System of Mytholog-y. 
Those who wish tu hnd an epitome of his reasoning-, and some consider- 
able extracts from h'S work, may be gratified by consulting the Encyclo. 
psedia Brilannica— ArtJcie Deh:;/e, 



I 



live among the wandering tribes of America; and meet 
tlj'? inquirer in the distant islands of the Pacific ocean, 
Eusebius has preserved a passage from Abydenus' his- 
tory of Assyria, to the following effect: 

''After these reigned many others, and then Seisi- 
thrus: to whom Saturn foretold, that there should fall 
a prodigious flood of rain on the fifteenth day of the 
month Desius; and commanded him to deposit all his 
writings in Heliopolis, a city of the Sipparians. Hav- 
ing obeyed this injunction, Seisithrus, without delay ^ 
sailed into Armenia, and found the prediction of the 
God realised. On the third day, after the waters were 
abated, he sent out birds, that he might ascertain 
whether the earth had yet appeared through the flood. 
But these, finding only a boundless sea, and having 
no resting place, returned to Seisithrus. In the same 
manner did others. And again he sent the third time: 
for they had returned to him, having their wings pol- 
luted with mud. Then the gods translated him from 
among men; and his ship came into Armenia, the 
wood of which is there used as a charm."* He refers 
also to the dove of Noah, when speaking of the saga- 
city of animals, he says, "Deucalion's dove, sent from 
the ark, upon her return, brought a sure indication^ 
that the tempests had yielded to tranquillity. 

Concerning Berosus' history of Chaldea, Josephus, 
in his first book against Appion, thus wTites: '^This 
Berosus, treading in the steps of the most ancient 
writers, has recorded the same facts as Moses, in 
relation to the deluge — the destruction of mankind by 
it — the ark in which Noah, the father of our race, 
was preserved— and its resting upon the tops of the 
Armenian mountains." After the relation to which 

*£i;seb. Praip.lib. ix.cAp. 12. 



86 

Josephus alludes, Berosus adds, "It is reported that 
part of the ship now remains in Armenia, on the GGr- 
dysean mountains;* and that some bring thence 
pitch, which they use as a charm."t 

Lucian speaks ot* a very remote history of the ark, 
laid up in Hierapolis of Syria; and the account which, 
according to him, the Greeks gave of the deluge is 
as follows: ^'That the first race of men were self willed, 
perpetrating many crimes, regardless of oaths, inhos- 
pitable, uncharitable: for which cause, great calami- 
ties fell upon them. For suddenly the earth threw 
out much water: a deluge of rain fell from heaven: 
rivers overflowed exceedingly; and the sea itself over- 
spread the globe to that degree, that all things w^ere 
overwhelmed by the water, and the whole of mankind 
perished. Deucalion alone remained, the source of 
another generation, on account of his prudence and 
piety. He was preserved thus: In a great ark, which 
he had prepared, he placed his wives, and his children, 
and entered also himself. After tliem went in bears, 
and horses, and lions, and serpents, and all other living 
creatures upon the face of the earth, by pairs. He 
received all these animals, which had no power to 
injure him, but were extremely familiar, being over- 
ruled by Divine influence. These all floated togeth- 
er, in the same ark, so long as the waters were upon 
the earth."J 

We have already remarked, that the same person 
was intended by a diversity of names; and Grotius 
says, that ''Seisithrus, Ogyges, and Deucalion, are all 



§ 16 7iotes. 

tJosephus contr. Appion, primo; et Antiq. His, lib. i. cap. 4. 

+Lucian, libro de Dea Syria, et de templo vetustissimo quod era^t 
HievapoU. 



names signifying, in other languages, the same as No- 
ah does in the Hebrew, the language in which Moses 
wrote*"t Nov\ it is a fact well known, that the an- 
cient writers, in copying from any original, did not 
give in their translation the names used in that original: 
but changed them for some other that had the same 
meaning in the language into which they translated 
them, as the original names had in that, from which 
they transcribed. For instance, Alexander the histo- 
rian, writing concerning Isaac in Greek, does not ad- 
here to the original name, but calls him Gelota {TiKocra) 
or "Laughter:" which is the interpretation of the He- 
brew name Isaac; and was given him by Sarah in re- 
membrance of some circumstances relating to his birth. 
Thus, by the different names used in the accounts 
which different nations give of the deluge, the same 
person is intended— and thai person is Noah. Dio- 
dorus says, it is the tradition of the Egyptians, that 
''Deucalion's was the universal deluge." Plato cor- 
roborates this testimony by saying, '^that a certain 
Egyptian priest, related to Solon, out of their sacred 
books, the history of the universal deluge; which took 
place long before the partial inundations known to 
the Grecians." There is another remarkable coinci- 
dence and correspondence with the Mosaic account: 
the very day fixed by Moses as the beginning of the 
deluge, agrees exactly w=th the day in which, Plu- 
tarch tells us, Osiris went into the ark, the seventeenth 
of Athyr; which is the second month after the au- 
tumnal equinox, the sun then passing through Scor- 
pio.— It is thus that the evidence of the universal del- 
uge, in this particular branch of it, corresponds with 

tGrotius de Verit. Relip^. Chrisl. § 16— notes.- w1\ere also tliese ex- 
tracts from Lucian and olLcrs, are quoted at leretlt, with many similar 
•Res. 



8B 

that of the creation: that it is equally the subject of 
tradition; andikat tradition, varying a little in circum- 
stance, is equally prevalent over the face of the whole 
earth. This fact is farther proved by, 

2. Tflfc EXISTENCE OF VAST QUANTITIES OF MA- 
RINE PRODUCTIONS UPON THE TOPS OF MOUNTAIN Sj 
AND UNDER THE SURFACE OF THE GROUND, TO CON- 
SIDERABLE DEPTHS, OVER THE WHOLE EARTH, AND AT 

ALL DISTANCES FROM THE SEA The earthquake that 

shaket the towering palace, and the proud battlements 
of the city to the ground, rends the bosom of the 
earth, and discloses the shells and teeth of fish — the 
bones of animals— entire or partial vegetables — evi- 
dently transported thither from their respective ele- 
ments, by some grand and universal commotion, affect- 
ing at one and the same time, the sea and the dry 
land, and destroying the limits of their mutual separ- 
ation. This was considered as a decisive argument 
till the recent hypotheses of some modern philosophers 
have furnished an evasion of its force. t It has been 
proved that volcanoes are capable of forming moun- 
tains of very considerable magnitude: that the fire of 
them lies deep, and often below the waters of the ocean 
itself. On this account, marine substances may be 
found at all depths in these volcanic mountains, 
and yet afford no proof of a deluge. There would 
be some weight in this argument if these marine sub- 
stances were found only in the neighborhood of vol- 
canoes: but with all its plausibility, it is incapable of 
universal application. It may be thought to account 
for marine substances lying deep in volcanic mountains^ 
or lands stretching along the borders of the ocean, and 
liable to volcanic irruptions: but it will furnish no sat- 

f Sir William Hamilton. 



89 

isfactory reason for their existence in an inland coun- 
try, free from volcanoes, and hundreds of miles dis- 
tant from the sea. There are also appearances of des- 
olation presented in nature, which cannot be accounted 
for^ even on the supposition of earthquakes; nor be 
deemed the consequence of any convulsion, less pow- 
erful than that of an universal delude. 

Another hypothesis is levelled against the system 
which we espouse. Some philosophers have supposed, 
that a perfect transposition of the order of things has 
taken place: that what inland was once sea; and that 
where the ocean rolls his proud waves, the earth pre- 
sented her fair and cultivated face.* If this, indeed, 
was the case, as the sea is liable to the same volcanic 
irruptions, the existence of marine productions, on ev- 
ery part of the globe, may be accounted for, without 
the admission of an universal deluge: since we may 
easily imagine, that when the waters retreated, they Mt 
some of their spoils, deeply implanted, behind. The 
observations which we have made, and are capable of 
making, in the contracted sphere of our personal knowl- 
edge—and the changes which are effected on the face 
of nature, in the narrow circle of the few years* allot- 
ted to us— may not perhaps be deemed any thing: but 
those of ages and generations long since rolled by, and 
which are recorded on the faithful page of impartial 
history, ought to be duly appreciated. The inroads 
which the sea has made upon the land, recorded by 
those who have measured and watched its boundaries, 
in the remembrance of our fathers, have been compar- 
atively inconsiderable: nor will any authentic history 
of the most remote periods, furnish us with matters of 
fact to justify, or even to countenance, an hypothesis 

*I]uiron. 

12 



00 

so extiavagant. Every instance which can be produ- 
ced of the ground gained by the waves upon the shores 
of the globe, is so trifling, and the conquest was so 
slowly acquired, that the system proposed must sup- 
pose an antiquity of the vv^orld, very little different, as 
it respects the objections that lie against it, from the 
hypothesis which maintains its eternity; the answer to 
which fell under the department of the preceding Lec- 
ture. This wild opinion, moreover, seems to suppose 
islands only the tops of mountains: but over the whole 
face of oar present continents is there no such moun- 
tain, or chain of mountains, in shape or extent, as our 
native country — whose hoary cliffs stretch their bar- 
riers wide and firm, frow^ning defiance equally upon 
the vv'^aves which assault her shores, and the power of 
nations who insult her majesty? On the vi^hole, we 
think, that only on the principle of an universal del- 
uge can the existence of marine productions found 
scattered wide, and buried deep, over the whole globe, 
be accounted for: since the theory which supposes the 
retreat of the ocean from our present earth, and that 
which rather suggests, than asserts, that all dry land 
was throw n up from the bottom of the sea, by volcan- 
ic, subterraneous fires, are equally preposterous and ir- 
rational. Now% the waters were long enough upon 
the earth, according to the Mosaic account, for shell- 
fish to breed on land, and to increase from spawn to 
their full size; the action of the waters upon the earth 
would greatly soften it; and tlie spoils of the deep, at, 
and before, the retreat of the waters, would be deeply 
absorbed, and covered by the perforated and broken soil. 
There appears to us to be but one way of determining 
upon this point: the Mosaic history is so express, that 
either an universal deluge must be admitted, or the 



91 

whole narration rejected. Had the deluge been only 
partial, some winged animals might have ni-i Je their 
escape from it, since it gradually and progressively ex- 
tended; and time was consequently afforded them for 
flight from the encroaching waters: but it is said, ^'ail 
flesh died, that moved upon the earth, both of fowl 
and of cattle." And if the waters were restricted to 
only a portion of the earth, a constant miraculous 
power must have been exerted to keep them at an el^ 
evation so immense, as to cover all the high hills of the 
immersed part, from running off into the sea, supposing 
the sea to have preserved its usual level. Nor is it 
easily ascertained, how far the human race had spread 
themselves over the face of the earth, or the degree in 
which man had multiplied. When, therefore, we speak 
of the Deluge, we mean an universal flood; and mean 
to distinguish it from the partial inundations which 
from time to time have laid waste particular countries; 
and which, in more remote ages, were preserved in 
remembrance by the heathen poets. 

II. We pass on to present you with a selection of a few, 
from the innumerable hypotheses by which in^ 

GENIOUS writers HAVE ATTEMPTED TO ACCOUNT 
FOR IT. 

To all who have written upon this subject, the 
grand difficulty appears to have been, the prodigious 
quantity of waters requisite to such a deluge as that 
described by Moses. There are two sources whence the 
sacred historian deduces them: ''the fountains of thegreat 
deep were broken up; and the windows of heaven 
were opened." The proportion of water necessasy to 



92 

constitute an universal deluge, has been by some esti- 
mated at eight oceans; while others* have computed 
it at not. less than twenty -two. The inquiry then i^. 
What did Moses intend by "the fountains of the deep?" 
and are these united with "the windows of heaven," 
sufficient to cause an inundation so immense? 

1. Dr. BuRNETt supposes the world to have been 
perfectly round, without mountains or any irregularity 
of surface, incrusting a globe of waters, which he calls 
the central abyss. He imagines that this exterior cov- 
ering of earth, was broken at the time of the deluge, 
and sunk down beneath the prevailing waters. This 
system, it is necessary to observe, opposes the narra- 
tive of Moses, which asserts, that "all the high hills 
were covered." 

2. Mr. WhistonJ imputes the whole to the interpo- 
sition and agency of a comet: descending in the plane 
of the ecliptic tovvards the sun, and passing just before 
the earth on the first day of the deluge. He also con- 
cludes that there is an abyss of waters under the sur- 
face of the earth; and supposes the influence of this 
body would produce a strong tide on the waters both 
above and under the earth, which would increase in 
proportion to the nearness of its approach. Those, 
particularly, encircled within the globe, would form an 
elliptical figure so much larger than their former spher- 
ical one, that, unable to oppose a resistance equal to 
its pressure, the surface of the earth woyld burst; 
which he asserts is the meaning of the phrase, "the 
fountains of the great deep were broken up." He 
further supposes, that, in its descent, the comet involv- 

. * Dr. Kei], f Tclluris Theoria Sacra. 

i New Theory of the Earth: also, the cause of the deluge demonsira- 
led. 



93 

ed the earth in its atmosphere and tail for a considrra- 
ble time; and the quantity of water left behind, wlien 
rarified by the sun, would descend in violent rains; 
which he imagines is intended by the opening of ''the 
windows of heaven." The succeeding heavy rains, 
recorded by Moses, enduring an hundred and fifty 
days, he attributes to a second similar immersion, on 
its return. In withdrawing these destructive waters 
from the face of the ruined world, he supposes a ve- 
hement wind to have arisen, which dried up a part, 
forced more through the clefts out of which they issued, 
and deposited the remainder in the bed of the ocean; 
which he imagines not to have existed before. The 
uncertainty of every calculation respecting coniets, and 
the possibility that their tails and atmospheres are 
streams of electric fluid, and not aqueous vapors, ren- 
der this ingenious theory very questionable. 

3. M, DE LA Pryme,* concludes that the antediluvian 
world resembled the present one: but that the deluge was 
effected by violent earthquakes, breaking up its whole 
surface — absorbing continents, islands, and the whole 
of the then dry land, correspondent portions of earth 
emerging from the antediluvian sea. Three objections 
rise against this theory: 1. The Mosaic history says 
nothing of earthquakes. 2. Amid commotions so 
terrible as those which must necessarily be caused by 
the sinking of the earth, the ark itself could not have 
been preserved without miracle. 3. Earthquakes op- 
erate suddenly and violently; but the Bible affirms 
that the flood came on gradually, although irreslslrhly, 

4. The eloquent and ingenious St. Pierre, t ir^ag- 
ines that the deluge may be accounted for on tLsc sup- 

• Fee Enclyclopetlia Rritannica — article Delw^e. 
•j- Eludes de ^a Nature. Toine I- Elude iV. 



94 

position, that on the year in which this great event 
took place, the action of the vertical sun, was not con- 
fined to that portion of the globe, w^hich is contained 
between the tropics, but was carried over the accumu- 
lated mountains of ice, at the northern and southern 
poles: which extraordinary circumstance, he thinks 
easily and naturally explained, by supposing that the 
earth, instead of preserving the parallel position of its 
poles, presented each of them, alternately, to the sun's 
verticle beams. 

It seems impossible to form any hypothesis free from 
difficulty: and each of those stated, bearing a greater 
or less degree of probability, supposes, what in fact 
every theory must allow, an immediate interposition 
of divine power and agency. Admit only the fact, 
that HE who made the world, destroyed it by water; 
and he could be at no loss for means to accomplish his 
awful design. The quantity of water required is im- 
mense: but not impossible to be raised.* Who has 
descended to his central storehouse? or seen the maga- 
zine of his rain and hail, treasured up against the day 
of wrath? Who can affirm that God has not a suffi- 
cient quantity of water in the earth for this grand pur- 
pose? It has been proved, that no less than one thou- 
sand six hundred zMons of water have been exhaled 
from one acre of land, and dispersed into the air, in 
twelve of the hottest hours of a summer's day, and 
when there had been no rain for above a month, and 
the earth was parched by continual heat!"* Besides, 
the sacred writer is consistent with himself. He repre- 
sents the earth originally covered, in its unformed 
state, with water, till the voice of God said, "Let the 

* See ?iole 6, to this Lecture at the end of the voliirae. 
j- See note 7, at the end of the volume. 



95 

waters under the heaven be gathered together unto 
one place, and let the dry land appear: and it was so."t 
If this theory be just, then is the deluge effected only 
by reducing the earth to its primeval state, and giving 
it over again to the dominion of the waters. 

Admit only, from the reasoning of the first part of 
this Lecture, the fact of a deluge; and from the second, 
the hand of Omnipotence in the production of it; and 
there can be no difficulty which does not melt away 
under his resistless operations. Had there been no 
deluge, it were difficult to account for the universal 
traditions respecting it: still more so, to explain the 
appearances presented in the face of nature itself. It 
was impossible for Moses to impose the belief of it 
upon the Jews, appealing as he did to the names found 
in the line of their immediate ancestors, and fixing a 
certain era for this wonderful event. Many of them 
w^ere well acquainted with the contemporaries of 
Joseph: Joseph with the particulars of the life of 
Abraham: and Abraham lived in the days of the sons 
of Noah. Now the Jews must have received tradi- 
tionary accounts of every remarkable event, handed 
down through successive generations, in other chan- 
nels besides the writings of Moses, Had his history 
clashed with these traditions, they could not have 
failed to observe it; and had he attempted to impose 
a fable upon them, they could not have failed to detect 
it. And such a detection at the commencement of his 
history, could not have failed to weaken, in the minds 
of his contemporaries especially, the authority and 
validity of the whole. 

But we must notice 

* Gen i, 9. 



jll. SOME OBJECTIONS RAISED AGAINST THIS ACCOUNT. 

Objection 1, is raised against the ark itself. 
many have supposed it too small for the purposes 
assigned to it. We might have presumed, had not 
Moses informed us, that a vessel so constructed, so de- 
signed, and so employed, could not have sprang from 
mere human contrivance. The length of it was three 
hundred cubits; the breadth, fifty; the height, thirty. 
The difficulty is to determine what was the exact 
measure of this cubit. Some fearing that the ark 
would not be sufficiently capacious for its destination, 
if measured by the common cubit, have enlarged its 
dimensions to extravagance. It is generally agreed, 
however, that they were common cubits: one of 
which, although formerly estimated at eighteen of our 
inches, is now allowed to contain twenty-two. Ac- 
cording to this measurement, the ark must have been, 
in length 547 2-10 English feet; in breadth, 91 2-10; in 
in height, 54 2-10; and its solid contents amount to 
over 2,730,781: almost double what it would be by 
the former computation. The iorm of it was an ob- 
long square, with a flat bottom, and a sloped roof, 
raised a cubit in the middle. It had neither sails, nor 
rudder; and was admirably adapted to float steadily 
on the water, without rolling, which might have en- 
dangered the lives of the animals: but it was unfit to 
endure a boisterous sea. It consisted of three stories: 
each of which might be about eighteen feet high; and 
was partitioned into numerous apartments. It was, 
without doubt, so formed, as to admit a proper propor- 
tion of light, and air, on the sides; although the par- 
ticular construction of the windows, is not mentioned. 
The whole seems to have had another covering, be- 



97 

sides the roof; probably made of skins, like that of the 
tabernacle. Noah is said, after the flood, to have 
removed the "covering of the ark;" which cannot be 
supposed to be the roof, but something drawn over 
it, like the covering of the tabernacle; which is also 
expressed by the same Hebrew word; and such a cov- 
ering was probably used to defend the windows. "* 
Upon this estimate, the ark appears to be sufficiently 
large and commodious, for the purposes for which it 
was constructed. 

Objection 2, arises from the difficitlty of ac- 
counting FOR the peopling of America; and 

^ROM THE SUPPOSED IMPOSSIBILITY OF WILD CREA- 
TURES OF ALL KINDS EXISTING IN ONE PLACE. With 

regard to the latter of these difficulties, it is removed, 
if we suppose, what is at least probable, that there 
might be such a temperature of air before the deluge^ 
as was suited to the constitution of every animal. 
Respecting the difficulty of peopling America, it is 
neither impossible nor improbable, after the pafkrn 
afforded them in the ark, that some sort of a vessel or 
flotilla should be constructed, which would be suffi- 
ciently strong to convey them, by a north-east pas. 
sage, to their destination. The greater difficulty is, 
the existence of wild creatures, and mischievous ani- 
mals: which men neither would, nor could transport; 
unless some restraint had been laid upon their ferocity^ 
similar to that which existed while they remained in 
the ark. But the modern geographical discoveries 
have removed the weight of this objection. The 
straits which divide North America from Tartary, are 
so narrow, as to admit a very easy passage from one 

• This account and calculation is principally extracted from Aii«<. 
tFmv, Hist- vol. i, c. 7 --on the Heluge. 



98 

continent to the other; and it is not impossible that 
they might even have been united by an isthmus 
which time and the waves, in their combined influ- 
ence, have demolished.* 

Objection 3, has been urged against the destruc- 
tion OF INFANTS AMONG THE INHABITANTS OF THE 

OLD WORLD. We shall not attempt to develope the 
reason why the Almighty permits devastation among 
children: but we will venture to affirm, that this is no 
objection against the Deluge itself, as a fact, any more 
than against the existence of earthquakes, which 
equally bury infants in their ruins. There is an equal 
propriety in urging it against the one fact, as the 
other; and if it will not be admitted as an objection 
in the one instance, neither ought it to be pressed as a 
difficulty in the other. Those who oppose the fact on 
this ground, affirm that it is "contrary to the justice of 
God." We contend, with a learned writerf, that "they 
have no right, in fairness of reasoning, to urge any 
apparent deviation from moral justice, as an argument 
against revealed religion; when they do not urge an 
equally apparent deviation from it as an argument 
against natural religion. They reject the former, and 
admit the latter, without considering, that, as to their 
objection, "they must stand or fall together;" because 
the apparent deviation is the same in both cases. 

Objection 4, respects the rainbow. The reason- 
ing adopted is as follows: The same causes must al- 
ways produce the same effects; consequently it is an 
absurdity in the Mosaic relation, to speak of the rain- 
bow, as formed after the flood, and as the sign of a 

* The reader may consult on this subject, Dodd. Lect. pt. vi. §8, undei' 
.pr.op. cxix. p. 350, 351, 4to edit. 

I Bishop Watson, in his excellent Apology for the B'tblC' 



99 

covenant then made. We grant that the rainbow is a^ 
phenomenon necessarily resulting from the nature of 
light, and the form and situation of falling rain: yet 
this objection may be answered two ways; 

1. Some have supposed that the earth, like the gar- 
den of Eden, was watered before the Deluge, not by 
rain, but by mist; in which case, no rainbow could 
exist. 

2. The accouot of Moses does 7iot directly assert, 
that the rainbow was then first formed; but merely 
that God appealed to it as a seal to his covenant, ''I 
do set my bow in the clouds; and it shall be for a 
token of a covenant between me and the earth."* 
The language may, without^constraint be understood 
to imply, that the rainbow did exist before: but that 
now, for the first time, it is appealed to, and appointed, 
as the seal of a covenant. 

We shall detain your attention farther, only while 
We attempt, 

IV. TO IMPROVE THE SUBJECT. 

How can we better succeed in this great object, than 
by pressing upon your consideration, the solemn event 
which the apostle, in the words read at the commence- 
ment of this Lecture, has connected with it? *'The 
heavens and the earth which are now, by the same 
word, are kept in store, reserved unto fire, against the 
day of judgment, and perdition of ungodly men." 

Carry forwards, therefore, your attention, and your 
thoughts, to this "great and terrible day of the Lord." 
You are interested in it; and it is inseparable from the 
subject which you have been contemplating. Are 
men insensible of its approach? So were they of the 
threatenino' destruction hovering; over the days of No* 

• Genesis ix, 13. 



10(^ 

nil; till one boundless scene of ruin opened upon their 
distracted sight, and swept them at once from life and 
hope for everl Are those derided, who patiently wait 
the accomplishment of the divine promise, and expect 
the revelation of the Lord from heaven? It is no new 
thing. The world have ever been blind to their best 
interests; have ever sported with their own ruin. 
When Noah laid the first beams of his ark across each 
other, it is probable he did it amid the insulting shouts 
of an hardened multitude. The building advanced* 
Some admired the structure: some derided his plan: 
some charged him with enthusiasm, or with insanity: 
more were lost in sensuality; and all united in the 
desperate resolution, to bury his adnionitions in the 
grave of oblivion. Still he entreated: still they spurn- 
ed his instructions: still the edifice rose day after day: 
still the voice of gaiety was echoed on every side. 
With strange infatuation, they stopped their ears; and 
refused to "listen to the voice of the charmer," who 
solicited them with unwearied perseverance, and rea- 
soned "so wisely." The roof is at length covered in. 
The danger becomes every hour more imminent. He 
presses his warnings upon them with increased energy: 
but, pointing to the unclouded sky, they laugh him to 
scorn, and load his ministration with contempt. It is 
closed! The last exhortation has been given; and he 
has wiped the last tear of insulted tenderness from his 
cheek. Ye blind, insensible mortals! what charm has 
"holden your eyes," that ye cannot see? Discern ye 
not the cloud that gathers over yonder mountain? 
The brute creation see it; and hasten for shelter to the 
ark. The family of Noah close the procession; they 
have entered their refuge; and even now "the door is 
§hut!"— Oh! it is too late! Fraught with heavy indig- 



I 



101 

laation, the tempest lowers fearfully. Every ^-face 
gathers blackness.'' Yet scarcely is it perceived, before 
a new scene of ruin presents itself. Ah! there is no 
escaping the hand of God! The skies pour an unabat- 
ing torrent. An hollow groan is heard through uni- 
versal nature, deploring the impending destruction. 
The birds and beasts which remain, excluded from 
the ark, scream and howl in the woods, whither they 
had fled for shelter. The sea assaults the shore: the 
restriction of heaven is removed: it passes its ancient 
boundaries: its triumphs already over the plains, and 
gains upon the hills. The ark floats upon its bosom. 
The despairing multitude fasten upon it an eye of dis- 
traction: they implore in vain the assistance of the 
prophet whom they had despised, and whose pitying 
eyes are again suffused with unavailing tears. He can 
bear it no longer. He retires to the innermost recesses 
of his vessel. In the phrenzy of despair, parents clasp 
their children to their cold bosoms, and flee to the 
highest mountains. Where else could they resort for 
shelter? for the boundless sea saps the foundation of 
the firmest edifices. What is their desperation as the 
waves approach the summit! It is equally impossible to 
descend, to rise higher, or to escape. They have pro- 
longed a miserable existence, a few hours, only to sink 
at last! — It is all in vain! ^'The waters prevail exceed- 
ingly: every high hill is covered; and fifteen cubits'" 
over their loftiest summits, the flood rises in haughty 
triumph! 

Do you turn pale at this sad relation? Ah! weep 
not for these, "but weep for yourselves!" Do you 
blame their blindness and infatuation? Behold, the 
finger of conscience points to you; and its voice pro- 
nounces of you individually, ''Thou art the manP 



102 

Are there not '^scoffers in these last days, walking af-^ 
ter their lusts and saying, Where is the promise of his 
coming? for since the fathers fell asleep, all things 
continue as they were from the beginning of the 
creation." Oh! this is wilful ignorance — this is incor- 
rigible obstinacy! The great event, discussed this night, 
stands upon firm evidence; and it is the pledge of that 
second desolation to which we ought to be looking 
forwards* Are there not triflers with the long suffer- 
ing of God; who presume upon his patience, and his 
mercy; and slumber in the arms of thoughtless sensu- 
ality? Let these remember, that judgment procrastina- 
ted, is not indignation removed: that the storm, rising 
slowly, accumulates more strength and fury than a 
sudden, transient blast. "The day of the Lord will 
come'' — will come 'as a thief in the night!" Man, re- 
tiring weary from the labors of the day, and slumber- 
ing under the mantle of darkness, shall be scared from 
his sleep, "to sleep no more," by tne roar of a thousand 
thunders, and the crash of dissolving worlds! Darkness 
shall reign at intervals, for the last time: and death shall 
lay down his sceptre for ever! Shaking off the fetters 
of sleep and of mortality, the man looks around him 
with an inquiring, distracted eye. Great God! what 
scenes of despair, and of ruin, present themselves! 
What language shall describe the horror of that day, 
in the contemplation of which, imagination fails? 
Kings, starting from their couch of down, or bursting 
from their tombs of marble, shall reluctantly resign the 
sceptres of their burning empires! With what unutter- 
able dismay will they gaze upon the globe itself, as it 
rolls along infinite space, blasted, and consuming by 
the lightenings of heaven! 



103 

Oh! it is no fable! we urge upon you no idle imagi- 
nation! Already the day approaches — it is even "nigh 
at hand" — ^'the judge standeth at the door!" The arch- 
angel is preparing to blow that blast, which shall 
"shake terribly" not only the earth, "but also heaven!" 
The glorified saints are looking forwards with "earnest 
expectation" to that day; and the spirits of the slaugh- 
tered redeemed cry, from under the altar, "How long, 
O Lord, how long!" All things are hastening to be 
placed under the feet of the Savior. "And then coni- 
eth the end"—the last, great day — the day that shall 
disclose 

**A God in grandeur— -and a world on fire!" 



LECTURE IV. 

THE DESTRUCTION OF BABEL, THE CONFUSION 
OF LANGUAGE, THE DISPERSION OF THE PEO- 
PLE, AND THE ORIGIN OF NATIONS. 

GEN. XI. 1 — 9. 

And the whole earth was of one language, and of 
one speech. And it came to pass, as they journeyed 
from the east, that they found a plain in the land 
of Shinar; and they dwelt there. And they said 
one to another. Go to, let us make brick, and burn- 
them thoroughly. And they had brick for stone^ 
and slime had they for mortar. And they said^ 
Go to, let us build us a city and a tower, whose 
top may reach unto heaven; and let us make us a 
name, lest we be scattered abroad upon the face of 
the whole earth. And the Lord came down to see 
the city and the tower, which the children of men 
builded. And the Lord said. Behold, the people is 
one, and they have all one language; and this they 
begin to do: and now nothing will be restrained from 
them, which they have imagined to do. Go to, let 
us go down, and there confound their language, 
that they may not understand one another's speech. 
So the Lord scattered them abroad from thence 
upon the face of all the earth: and they left off to 
build the city. Therefore is the name of it call- 
ed Babel; because ^/zcLord did there confound the 
language of all the earth: and from thence did the 
IjOrj} scatter them abroad upon the face of all the 
earth. 



i05 

OBADIAH 3 & 4. 

The pride of thine heart hath deceived thee, thou that 
dwellestin the clefts of the r^ock, whose habitation 
is high; that saith in his hearty Who shall bring 
me down to the ground? Though thou exalt thyself 
as the eagle, and though thou set thy nest among 
the stars, thence will 1 bring thee down, saith the 
Lord. 

WE left Noah floating, with his family, upon th.e 
bosom of an overwhelming deluge, which had ex- 
hausted the fountains of the deep, to wash away the 
stains of guilt from the surface of the earth. We are 
now to accompany this favored family, from the ark 
that preserved them, to the wasted, deserted plains, 
once more visible. What an interesting picture, does 
the sacred historian present, to the eye of the imagin- 
ation! Behold, an altar erected — a family surrounding 
it — the rainbow extending its sublime arch across the 
face of heaven — and the Eternal himself appealing to 
it, as the seal of a gracious covenant, and a pledge of 
security to the human race! On the one hand, may 
be seen the ark on the elevation of Mount Ararath: 
on the other, strewed thick and sad, the mournful re- 
mains of those who had perished by the waters. All 
is silent — while the patriarch adores his omnipotent 
Preserver; and presents his sacrifice, with the mingled 
emotions of pity, of gratitude, and of faith. 

— Of Pity. Could he view the scene of desola- 
tion around him, without suffering one tear of com- 
passion to fall? Impossible! And well might a patri- 
arch's bosom entertain this divine and generous prin- 
ciple, when she takes up her residence, a welcome 
guest, in heaven! She throws her softest tints ov^r 
14 



106 

tliose blissful regions, without impairing either their 
beauty or their tranquillity; and sheds her sweetest 
balm upon their inhabitants, without destroying either 
their happiness or their repose. Her lily is interwoven 
with the roses which form celestial garlands; and her 
drops of compassion mingle with the tears of exqui- 
site delight, which glitter in immortal eyes. She takes 
up her lasting abode in the bosom of the Son of God. 
She conducted the Savior through every trying scene 
which he witnessed in his passage through this valley 
of tears. "He wept with those that wept;'' and "in 
all our afflictions he was afflicted." She accompanied 
him every step of his journey; and placed her chap- 
let of cypress upon his conquering head, when he ex- 
pired on Calvary. In proportion as we possess the 
spirit of Jesus, we shall become the companions of pity ^, 
She will teach us to bind up the broken heart: to 
wipe away the tear from the eye of sorrow, and to 
pour the oil and the wine of sympathy, into the wound- 
ed bosom. O Religion! how have thy adversaries 
slandered thee, when they represent thee, as harden- 
ing the heart! Christianity instructs us to "love our- 
enemies:" teaches those to weep, who never wept be- 
fore; softens the obdurate spirit; melts down the fero- 
cious disposition; controls the furious passions; quick- 
ens the sensibilities of nature; transforms the instru- 
ments of cruelty, into implements of husbandry; be- 
comes the strongest, and most permanent, bond of 
society; and, in every point of view, meliorates the 
condition of humanity. 

— Of Gratitude. As the patriarch had seen, with 

sorrow, the destruction of the world, he was preserved, 

in mercy, to behold the renovation of it. His conse- 

,^^ated ark had floated safely, during the prevalence of 



107 

the waters; and now, that they were abated, he de- 
gcended from it, upon the face of nature, smiling, as i^ 
bride newly adorned. He received from Him, who 
is the Sovereign Disposer of all events, a promise, that 
the serene sky should lower no more to destroy; and 
that the hand that balanced the poles of heaven, should 
roll the seasons round in their order. '^I will estab- 
lish my covenant with you; neither shall all flesh be 
cut off any more by the waters of a flood." ''While 
the earth remaineth, seed-time and harvest, cold and 
heat, and summer and winter, and day and night, shall 
not cease." With the distinction which had been 
made between himself and his family, and the whole 
human race, in a moment of punishment so signal, 
fresh in his memory; and with these words of mercy 
sounding in his ears; surely, he could not but kneel 
before his altar with gratitude. It is gratitude which 
tunes the harps of heaven, and touches them with the 
finger of harmony. And when gratitude was extin- 
guished in the bosoms of "a third part" of the sons of 
God, the order of heaven was deranged, the harmony 
of heaven was suspended, the symphonies of heaven 
were silenced, war first reared his hideous form, hell 
first received existence, and angels became demons. 
Nor can this sacred principle be annihilated in any 
bosom, excepting those over which Satan holds undi- 
vided empire. It could not, therefore, be excluded the 
heart of Noah. 

— Of Faith. There extended the seal of the cove- 
nant over the retiring cloud. "He believed; and it was 
counted to him for righteousness." He saw the fidel- 
ity of God, sparkling in the brilliant colors, formed 
by the rays of the sun, falling upon the descending 
shower. And did he not look forwards to Him,, whc^ 



108 

should finally remove the curse, "plant a raiivbo^ 
round about the throne," and ''make all things new?^ 
Surely, he, from whom a new world was to spring? 
w^as not suffered to remain ignorant of the Redeemer 
of fallen man! He remembered the promise, that -'the 
*Seed' of the woman should bruise the head of the ser- 
pent;" and his sacrifice ascended witli acceptance, 
because he beheld in the type, with the eye of faith, 
Jesus, the great antitype. 

Did Noah find acceptance in raising an altar to God, 
and in collecting his family around it? Every good 
man may avail himself of the same privilege, enjoy 
the same intercourse, and find the same acceptance. 
Every Christian family will have an altar consecrated 
to the Deity; before which, they will esteem it their 
duty, their privilege, and their happiness, to bow; and 
around which, they will assemble, to present their 
morning and evening sacrifice of prayer and thanks- 
giving. Permit me to press the question. Fathers of 
families! have you a family-altar? Do you statedly, 
and constantly, bring your children, and your house- 
hold, to a throne of grace, and present them before 
God? Do you mingle your praise, and your supphca- 
tions, as the morning pours a flood of light upon your 
habitation, and the evening stretches her shadows over 
it? No "flaming sword, turning every way," guards 
from access, the throi^e of God: no darkness, and 
thunder, forbid your near approach, A voice, frorn 
the most excellent glory, proclaims, "Draw near, with 
boldness, to the tluone of grace; that ye may obtain 
mercy, and find grace to help in time of need." To 
this invitation, is added a command:— '^for all these 
things, I will be entreated." And woe to the man, 
who hves in the habitual neglect of this command, and 



109 

keeps his household back from God: for he will '^pour 
out his fury upon the nations that worship him not, 
and upon the families that call not upon his name!" 

Noah having built an altar, and gratefully surround- 
ed it with his family, received the divine blessing on 
himself and his household. Permission was granted 
to man, for the first time, to eat, not only the produce 
of the ground, but flesh also. Then also, was im- 
pressed upon the brute creation, that fear of him, 
which the revolution of thousands of years has not 
been able to efface. "And the fear of you, and the 
dread of you, shall be upon every beast of the earth, 
and upon every fowl of the air, upon all that moveth 
upon the earth, and upon all the fishes of the sea; into 
your hand are they delivered." To this hour, there 
are few among the beasts of prey which roam the for- 
est, that will not avoid the sight of even an unarmed 
man: unless driven to desperation by hunger, or pro- 
voked to madness by pursuit. The noble, majestic 
lion, loses his native fierceness^ in proportion as he 
dwells near human habitations. The horse, the ox, 
the elephant, unconscious of their strength, are easily 
disciplined, and freely lend their powers, to serve their 
more feeble master. And this impress of God, this 
fear of man, remains undiminished to the present 
moment. Upoii this occasion, also, the first denun- 
ciation against murder was issued. "Whoso sheddeth 
man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed: for in 
the image of God made he man." This solemn insti- 
tution was confirmed, ratified, and enforced in the 
laws of Moses: and it has ever formed a fundamental 
law, in all civilized, and well-regulated states. 

We have long dwelt with pleasure upon Noah's 
piety: we are now to unveil his weakness. The char- 



no 

acters portrayed in this volume are not perfect char- 
acters: otherwise they would not be men; neither 
would the history of their pilgrimage afford any solace 
to us in this vale of desertion and misery. For, alas! 
every day too sadly evinces that we are imperfect char- 
acters; every day discloses to our astonished eyes, some 
new trait of ingratitude, of disobedience, of sloth, and 
of depravity. It would be no consolation to us, to be 
informed, that God is now preserving their "eyes from 
tears," and their "feet from falling," for ever. "Ah, 
that may well be true" — would be our answer — "for 
their faith was always in lively exercise: their hope 
vi'as never shaken: their zeal always burned with in- 
extinguishable purity: their love never waxed cold. 
No difficulties impeded them: no enemies vanquished 
them: no dangers affrighted them: no considerations 
deterred them from running, with holy alacrity, the 
race that w^as set before them. ' Therefore are they be- 
fore the throne of God, and serve him day and night 
in his temple: and he, that sitteth on the throne, shall 
dwell among them.' But we are ever ready to turn 
aside. At best, we advance, 'faint, yet pursuing.^ 
With wavering hopes, and a trembling faith; with 
languishing affections, and perplexing fear; we hardly 
reach forwards to our home; and are incessantly ap- 
prehensive, lest we should eventually fall short of itP^ 
But what, if we should prove to you, that these w^ere 
characters imperfect as yourselves? Many spots soiled 
their white raiment, while they walked through this 
world: many blemishes stain their memory. Yet 
''are they before the throne of God," for your en- 
couragement; and as monuments of his mercy, whose 
grace shall finally make you more than conquerors 
over your corruptions, and your enemies. In the 



Ill 

mean time, observe, that as they were subject k) your 
imperfections, they also, while upon earth, participated 
your chastisements, and were exposed to similar ca- 
lamities with yourselveSo — Behold, then, this great 
man, this good man, overtaken by the sin of drunken- 
ness! On this occasion, one of his sons forgot that filial 
sympathy which should cover a parent's imperfections, 
and which warmed the bosom of his brethren: in con- 
sequence of which. Ham drew down upon himself, 
and upon his family, his father's curse; while a bles- 
sing, soft as the dew, descended upon the heads of 
Shem and of Japheth, and upon their posterity. 

At length, we arrive at that eventful period, which 
is the winding up of the longest history: "ail the days 
of Noah, were nine hundred and fifty years — and he 
diedr Six hundred years of his life were passed upon 
the face of the old world; and three hundred and fifty, 
he walked upon the ground of the new one. Three 
hundred and sixty-five days, had he floated upon the 
surface of a boundless ocean: rescued with his family 
from destruction; and bearing with him this testimony, 
"that he pleased God." This, it was, that encircled 
his hoary head with a diadem of glory: he was "found 
in the way of righteousness." The longest life is but 
as "yesterday, when it is passed:'^ but "Noah walked 
with God" — with that Being, whose days are com- 
mensurate with the ages of eternity; and who first 
provided for him, and afterwards bestowed upon 
him, an unfading inheritance. 

When the sacred writer had conducted the venera- 
ble patriarch to his last, peaceful retreat — the grave; he 
favors us with a genealogy of his descendants. As 
his history particularly concerned the Israelites, he 
has. given us the line of Shem entire; and his only. 



112 

As to the offspring of the other sons of Noah, his de- 
sign appears to have been, merely to bring them down 
to the dispersion of the people; in order to leave to 
posterity the names of the first founders of nations; 
and then to dismiss them. Hence, although he men- 
tions the Canaanites, as a people with whom the Isra- 
elites were concerned, yet he deduces the genealogy of 
Ham no farther; and it is shorter than those of Cush 
and Mizraim, by one generation. 

The predictions of Ncah were remarkably fulfilled: 
but to unfold the various events in correspondence 
with them, were, of itself, the labor of a lecture; and 
indeed belongs to the department of scriptural prophe- 
cy. He had said, "Curjied be Canaan,* a servant of 
servants shall he be to his brethren '^ This was ful- 
filled in the reduction of the Canaanites, the immedi- 
ate descendants of Canaan, by the Israelites, the pos- 
terity of Shem. It was again fulfilled, in the subju- 
gation of the Egyptians, the descendants of Ham; both 
by the Persians, the posterity of Shem; and by the 
Grecians, the offspring of Japlieth. Tyre was built 
by the Sidonians, the descendants of Ham; and was 
twice subdued, and at length wholly desolated, by the 
posterity of his brethren. The Carthaginians were 
descendants of Ham: the Ramans, who subdued them, 
derived their line from Japheth. The whole continent 
of Africa, was peopled, for the most part, by the chil- 
dren of Ham: it is become the mart of the whole 
world for slavery; and the Europeans, the oppressors 
of this wretched people, are the posterity of Japheth. 
The blessing pronounced upon Shem, was, "Blessed 
be the Lord God of Shem:" or rather, ^'Blessed of the 

*It is a sin,^ular'iiy in this prophecy, that PJam was cursed in the name ^ 
*f his youngest son, Canaan. 



113 

Lord my God, be Shem; and Canaan shall be hb 
servant." Shem Was peculiarly blessed in two res- 
pects: the Church of God was among the posterity of 
Shem, for many generations; and from him, "accord- 
ing to the flesh,'^ the Messiah came Of Japheth, he 

said, ^'God shall enlarge Japheth." All Europe; the 
lesser Asia; Media; a part of Armenia; Iberia; Alba- 
nia; the wide regions of the North, once in the hands 
of the Scythians, now inhabited by the Tartars; India 
and China; and, probably, the continent of America; 
are the possessions of Japheth. Farther, "He shall 
dwell in the tents of Shem/' This seems to allude to 
the unions, which sometimes took place, between the 
posterity of these brethren, when they conjointly 
fought against the descendants of Ham. There have 
been some exceptions, when the descendants of Ham 
have subdued those of Shem, and of Japheth; but^ ia 
general. Ham has been the servant of his brethren: and 
it is worthy of remark, that the four grand empires of 
the world, the Assyrian, the Persian, the Grecian, and 
the Roman, descended, the two former from Shem, 
and the two latter from Japheth.^ 

We are afterwards introduced to Nimrod, who is 
called "a mighty hunter before the Lord.'' Com* 
mentators have been greatly divided respecting this 
extraordinary personage: since, the words of Moses 
may be taken in a good or a bad sense. There is 
nothing in his short history, bearing the least reproach; 
except, indeed, his name, which signifies a rebel. 
Enough, however, is said to render it evident that he 
grasped at empire; and obtained it. Some ascribe to 
him the project of building Babel; which, considering 

*See Newton on the Prophecies; vol. i, DiMertatid/i 1. Noalfs 

15 



114 

his enterprising disposition, so far as we can judge of 
it, from the short narrative of the sacred writer, is not 
improbable: Others say, that he left the country, be- 
cause he would not consent to the scheme; which, for 
the reason we have assigned, we do not think at all 
likely. And not a few conclude, that he was, at that 
period, very young. 

Having passed over the link of history which con- 
nects the deluge with the present subject of discussion; 
we hasten to the immediate object of our meeting at 
this time: to consider the fact — The destruction of 
Babel; connected with the confusion of lan- 
guage; and THE DISPERSION of the people; and 
thence to trace, the origin of nations. We shall aim 
simply, To illustrate and establish this event; and to 
deduce from it some considerations adapted to our 
individual improvement. We shall attempt, 

I. TO illustrate, and to establish, the event. 

In order to which, it will be necessary to consider 
the several parts of the history, as recorded by Moses: 
to produce the testimony of other ancient writers; and 
to answer some inquiries which may arise from the 
subject. We shall consider, 

1. The several parts of the history, as re- 
corded BY MOSES. 

V. 1. "And the whole earth was of one language, 
and of one speech.^ ^ Speech is the vehicle of commu- 
nication, by which one man transmits his thoughts to 
another: nor shall we burden your attention in tracing 
its origin; an inquiry which, we think, would lead us 
up to God himself. We take it for granted, without 
wasting the time in frivolous discussion, according to 



115 

the literal meaning of the express words of Moses, 
that ''the whole earth was of one language, and of 
one speech." But it may be expected, that something 
Should be said, respecting the primitive tongue — this 
universal language spoken by our fathers, before the 
confusion of speech. In addition to those languages, 
which are commonly known by the title Oriental, 
the Armenian, the Celtic, the Coptic, the Greek, the 
Teutonic, and the Chinese, demand the preference on 
this point. The Armenian, the Celtic, and the Coptic, 
come before us laden with the venerable riiarks of 
hoary antiquity; and the former builds its claim upon 
the resting of the ark on its mountains. The Greek 
appeals to its extent and copiousness. Some have at- 
tempted to derive the Hebrew itself from the Teuton- 
ic. The arguments produced in favor of the Chinese, 
are^principally, the antiquity of that nation: their early 
acquaintance with the arts and sciences: their separa- 
tion, in all ages, from all other nations: and the sin- 
gularity of the language itself; which consists of few 
words, ail monosyllables, and is remarkable for its 
simplicity, having no variety of declensions, conjuga- 
tions, or grammatical rules. These singularities have 
been deemed strong marks in its behalf, as the original 
language: besides the presumption that Noah was the 
founder of the Chinese nation. Each of the Oriental 
languages have strenuous supporters; but the palm is 
more generally awarded to the Syriac. The Jews 
warmly defend the Hebrew tongue; and refer to the 
etymologies of the names transmitted to us by Moses. 
In some instances the sacred historian himself has 
marked their propriety, and the relation which they 
bear to the person, or place designed by them: but 
there are otiiers, not so distinguished, in which no 



116 

siich relation can be traced; and the question to be 
decided is, whether he has preserved the original 
terms, or, according to the practice of all ancient wri- 
ters, accommodated them to the dialect of the Ian* 
guage in which he wrote? The most probable conclu- 
sion, from this endless diversity of opinion, is — either 
that the original language is lost; or that it is spoken 
under variations which render it equivalent to a new 
tongue; or, that, even supposing it tp exist, it cannol 
be ascertained. 

V. 2. ^'And it came to pass, as they journeyed from 
the east, that they found a plain in the land of Shinar; 
mid they dwelt there.^^ The extent and situation of 
the land of Shinar, is not easily determined. There^ 
the city and tower of Babel were erected. Thither, 
Nebuchadnezzar carried away the vessels of the tem- 
ple, to the house of his god: which, in all probability, 
was the temple of Belus, in Babylon. This confirms 
the general opinion, that the temple of Belus was. 
erected upon the ruins of the tower of Babel; or, at 
least, that Babylon stood upon, or near, the spot^ 
where this vast design was projected, and partly exe- 
cuted. The part of Mesopotomia, chosen by the 
astronomers, in the time of the Khalifah al Mamum, 
for measuring the content of a degree of a great circle, 
was the desert of Senjar; the nature of the experirBent 
required the selection of a large and level country; and 
this is probably a part of che ancient plain of Shinar.* 
Upoi) the whole, we will venture to call it Chaldea, 
V. 3 and 4. '^And they said one to another, Go to^ 
let us make brick and burn them thorotigly. And they 

* Anc. Univ. Hist. vol. I, b.opk i, chap. 2. The reader may find muck 
learned discussion, on all tlie points under review in this p&ri ofth« Lffc^ 
ture,sn that laborious work. 



117 

had brick for stone, and slime had they for mortar. 
And they said, Go to, let us build us a city and a 
tower, whose top may reach unto heaven ; and let ■its- 
make u>s a name lest we be scattered abroad upon the 
face of the whole earth,^^ It has been iaiagined by 
some, that this elevation was reared in fear of a second^ 
deluge: we deem this improbable, from their choice of 
situation, and because other, and sufficient, motives, 
are assigned in the history. The celebrated and elo- 
quent Saurin says: *'The impressions which the water:^ 
of the deluge had made upon the imagination of Noah. 
and of his family, ^caused them to live in places the 
most elevated, and the least accessible to inundations. 
They dwelt upon the mountains of Armenia, in the 
neighborhood of that place where the ark rested. But 
an hundred and forty four years afterwards; according 
to the computation of one of the most celebrated chi'o- 
nologists; these fears were entirely dispersed: they dif- 
fused themselv^es over the vallies and the fields; and 
occupied the plains of Chaldea, or of Babylon."* Had 
they designed this tower as a bulwark against a second 
deluge, they would have chosen an elevated country 
rather than a plain. Two reasons are assigned, in 
their consultation, for this project: 

1. That they might make themselves a name: that 
they might leave a memorial behind them. The de- 
sire of living in the remembrance of posterity, and of 
securing an immortal renown, has burnt with inextin- 
guishable ardor, in the human bosom, in e.very age. 
Absalom set up for himself a pillar; because he had 
"no son" to "keep his name in remembrance." The 
principle which laid the foundation of the tower oC 

•vSayr- Disconvs. Sec. Suv la Bible, Sanri. I. Disc, x, p- (35., 



118 

Babel, raised the lofty pyramids of E^^ypt; has reared 
many a proud city; and, more than once, has turned 
the world into "a field of blood." 

2. That they might not be dispersed: Hest we be 
scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth." 
Their project to live together, opposed the manifest 
design of Deity, that the whole earth should be speedily 
peopled. Some have translated the words — Let us 
m^ke us a sign^ lest we be scattered;" and conclude 
that they intended this tower to serve as a beacon, or 
mark, by the direction of which, they might avoid 
straying with their flocks, (for the first men were shep- 
herds) and regain the city, which they had chosen for 
their residence, after tne temporary wanderings requir- 
ed by their occupations. The result of their consul- 
tations, whatever were their motives, was the com- 
mencement of that stupendous work — the tower of 
Babel 

Respecting the tower itself, Moses informs us, that 
"they used brick instead of stone, and slime instead of 
mortar." This slime was a pitchy substance, called 
bitumen, which abounded in the neighborhood of 
Babylon; and, forming a strong cement, was admira- 
bly adapted to their purpose. It is universally admit- 
ted, that the tower had its ascent on the outside — a 
broad road gradually winding round it: of course, 
the tower itself grew proportionably narrow as it in- 
creased in height, and assuoicd a spiral form. If you 
imagine a patij, winding round the representations 
which are made of the pyramids of Egypt, you will 
form a complete idea, of the general description trans- 
mitted to us of the tower of Babel. 

V. 5 — 9. "-Arid the Lord came down to see the 
city and the tower ^ which the children of men huilded. 



119 

And the Lord said, Behold, the people is one, and they 
have all one language; and this they begin to do: 
and now nothing will he restrained from them which 
they have imagined to do. Go to, let us go down, 
and there confound their language, that they may not 
understand one another s speech. So the Lord scat^ 
tered them abroad from thence upon the face of all the 
earth: and they left off to build the city. Therefore 
is the name of it called Babel; because the Lord did 
there confound the language of all the earth: and 
from thence did the Lord scatter them abroad upon 
the face of all the earth. ^^ There is a merciful con- 
descension to be perceived in all parts of the sacred 
writings, in stooping to our conceptions, by the use of 
familiar terms, and of language continually on our 
own lips. Had the inspired penmen been commis- 
sioned, at all times, to represent things as they really 
are, we should have derived no benefit from their 
communications: we should have had words, but not 
ideas: we should have been incessantly floating on the 
surface of uncertainty, bewildered and lost, in the lof- 
tiness of the subject. But God speaks to us, as though 
he were "bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh:'' he 
enters into all our passions: he uses our language: he 
brings down heavenly subjects to the standard of our 
comprehension. In travelling through the land of scrip 
ture discovery, we are at home; we are surrounded by 
objects,and encompassed with imagery, perfectly famil- 
iar to US; and "^^a wayfaring man, though a fool, cannot 
err therein." The consequence is, that this volume is 
found to speak to the heart: it "approves itself to ev- 
ery man's conscience:" it possesses an irresistible influ- 
ence over his life, while it descends to the level of hi^ 
understanding. Because we have no conception of 



120 

pure spirit — spirit distinct from matter — or of its poW- 
ers — or of its agency — or of its operations — the Deity 
is represented as acting like a man. We read of his 
penetrating eye; his powerful hand; his majestic voice; 
his trackless footsteps; his melting bowels; his com* 
passionate heart. He is angry: he relents: he loves: 
he entreats. He ascends and descends; he rides upon 
the clouds; he walks through the earth. He is a father 
—and he has a father's heart. He manifests paternal 
anxiety — paternal affection-paternal superintendence- 
paternal displeasure — paternal forgiveness. Every one 
feels the force of the image; every one sees in himself 
the ungrateful, perverse child; every one understands^ 
his relation to God, and acknowledges the obligations 
under which he is laid to him. The imagery renders 
every thing luminous: while the representation of facts 
as they are — a Being without passions, and without 
any resemblance to any one object wnth which we are 
acquainted — would overwhelm the mind with perplex- 
ity, and overshadow the subject with impenetrable 
darkness. Of the class described, is the passage before 
lis: in it are many bold figures of speech; for the Eter- 
nal fills all space with his presence, and can neither 
ascend nor descend; and when such language is used, 
it is in accommodation to our conceptions, and to our 
modes of speaking. 

The w^ork was displeasing to God; and the source 
of his displeasure was, that it opposed his express com- 
mand, "replenish the earth:" which could not be done 
while they continued in one place. In order to scat- 
ter them abroad, he compelled them to relinquish 
their project, by confounding their language: from 
which circumstance, the city and tower took the name 
of Babel, which signifies confusion. 



121 

The confusion of language, became the nieans 
of the DESTRUCTION OF Babel: and from its in»port- 
ance and consequences, is an event worthy the place 
which it occupies, in the Mosaic history. As to the 
manner in which it was effecced, as in every subject 
so remote and undetermined by the historian himself, 
there is a diversity of sentiment. Some suppose that 
the words only imply a misunderstanding among the 
builders; and that he set them at variance, by causing 
a division of counsel. Others understand by them a 
temporary confusion of speech; causing them to mis- 
apply terms, and misconceive each other in the use of 
the same language. Others are of opinion, that a va- 
riety of inflexions were introduced, and perhaps some 
new words; which disturbed and perverted the former 
manner of expression. But the plain and express terms 
of the history go beyond these hypotheses; it is evident 
that the inspired historian designs to exhibit a com- 
plete confusion of tongues; which will account for the 
endless diversity of languages, and the source of the 
division of mankind into different and distinct nations. 
There are languages which have no visible connexion 
with any other tongue whatever; and the Chinese is 
an exemplification of our assertion. This could never 
have been, had the confusion consisted of a mere va- 
riation of dialect; and we wish it to be understood, as 
our decided opinion, that at the destruction of Babel^ 
new languages were framed; and this by the miracu- 
lous and immediate interposition of divine power. 

The DISPERSION of the people, which followed, we 
do not imagine was ^ disorganization of the whole 
mass of mankind, as a tempest tenifies and scatters 
a multitude: but simply a division of them; as at tha 
quiet separation of an orderly assembly? everv xn'^ii 
16 



122 

falls into his respective party and seeks his home. Ev- 
ery man it is probable, betook himself to the company 
that spake his own new language; and consented, with 
them to separate from others. We think that this is im- 
plied by the language which Moses adopts in speak- 
ing of the division of the earth by the several bands. 
Of the sons of Japheth, it is said— "By these, wxre 
the isles of the Gentiles divided." Respecting the de- 
scendants of Ham, he concludes, ^^These are the sons 
of Ham, after their families, after their tongues, in their 
countries, in their nations;" unquestionably referring 
to their situation after their dispersion. The same 
language is used in relation to Shem. Nothing here 
wears the appearance of hurry and disorder; on the 
contrary, the inference appears to us to be, that the 
dispersion of the people was regular, and the division 
of the earth performed without confusion. 

With respect to the origin of nations, at this dis- 
tance of time from the great event, little can be said 
with certainty. A mere outline of the larger divisions can 
only be made; and this, with scarcely any degree of pre- 
cision. SHEM,appears for the remainder of his day s,to have 
hovered about the plains of Shinar. From his descend- 
ants sprang the inhabitants of Persia,* Nineveh,t China J 
Mesopotamia, and Phrygia; comprehending the coun- 
tries westward of Assyria, as far as the Mediterranean.!) 
Ham, probably, dwelt in Egypt. His descendants oc- 
cupied Shinar,§ Arabia.lT Ethiopia,** Africa,tt Phe- 
nicia, and the land of Canaan. JJ When Japheth 
left Babel, it is uncertain where he settled. His de- 

• From Elam. f From Ashur* ^ From Arphaxad, 

[j From Aram- § From Nhnrod. ^ From Cush. 

** From Mizraivio \\ From Phut. %\ From Canaan. 



123 

scendants dwelt in Phrygia,* the eastern part of Asia 
Minor,t Cappadocia, and Galatia-t Most of these 
divisions, after all, must be considered as conjectur- 
al.§ So far we have followed the Mosaic history: 
we shall produce, 

2. The testimony of other antient writers. 
The confusion of tongues ''is mentioned by profane 
historians, who write, that mankind used the same 
language till the "overthrow of the tower of Baby- 
lon."|| The fable of the attempt of the giants to climb 
ihe heavens; probably owes its origin to some tradi- 
tions relative to this fact. It was a common mode of 
speaking in many nations and in the East especially, 
when things exceeded the ordinary height to say, 
that *'they reached to heaven. IT When, therefore, it W'd9 
said, "Let us build a city, and a tower, whose top may 
reach to heaven,'' no more was intended, than Let us 
build a tower exceedingly high." But when the de- 
sign descended, by tradition, in its native boldness of 
expression, to nations unacquainted with the Mosaic 
history, and with eastern language; who were, also, 
fond of the marvellous, and skilful in fable; they rais- 
ed the story of the giants' war with heaven, and cele- 
brated this imaginary contest in verse, as harmonious 
as majestic.** Josephus quotes one of the Sybils, in 
the following w^ords: *'When all mankind spoke the 
same language, some of them elevated a tower im- 
mensely high, as if they would ascend up into heaven, 
but the gods sent a wind, and overthrow the tower; 

* From Gomer. f From Ashkenaz- f From Togarmah. 

§ See, on this perplexed subject, the laborious researches of the wri- 
ters of the Anc. Univ. Hist. vol. i, book i, chap. 2, §6. 

Ij Anc. Univ. Hist. vol. i, book i, chap. 2, §5, p. 439. 

^ Consult Homei', in various places; and read Deut. i, 28, also ix, 1- 

»• Homer, Odys. 30. Ovid. Met. lib. i- Virg. Georg^. i, &c. See also 
note 2, at the end of the volume. 



124 

and assigned to each a particular language; and hence 
the city of Babylon derived its name."* Abydenus 
uses similar language: "Thei^ are, who relate that the 
first men, born of the earth, when they grew proud of 
their strength and stature, supposing that they were 
more excellent than the gods, wickedly attempted to 
build a tower, where Babylon now stands. But, the 
work advancing towards heaven, was overthrown, up- 
on the builders, by the gods, with the assistance of the 
winds; and the name Babylon was imposed upon the 
ruins. Till that period, men were of one language: 
but then, the gods sent among them a diversity of 
tongues. And then commenced the war between Sat- 
urn and Titan. "t Before we dismiss this part of the 
subject, we will only add, that "it is a false tradition of 
the Greeks that Babylon was built by Semiramis; and 
this error is refuted by Berosus, in his Chaldaics, Jo- 
sephus in his first book against Appion," and others. J 
It remains, that we attempt, 

3. To ANSWER SOME INQUIRIES ARISING OUT OF 
THE SUBJECT. 

Was there any thing criminal in the attempt to build 
this city and tower, considered in itself? We feel no 
hesitation in answering — No. But a thing perfectly 
lawful, and innocent in itself, may become criminal 
from the motives in which it originates, or the conse- 
quences connected with it. There were two ways in 
which this attempt, harmless in itself, was rendered 
criminal. First, the foundation of the work was laid 
in ambition. And what is ambition, but another name 
for every complicated vice which degrades humanity, 

* See Joseph, de Antiq Jud. Lib. i, cap. 4, Tom. i, Hud.edi. 
f See note 4, at the end of this volume. 
^ See note 5, at the end of this volume. 



I 



125 

^ ftnd fills the world with sorrow? What so soon erases 
human feelings, as ambition? What so hardens the 
heart against the voice of woe, as ambition? What 
violates the sanctity of truth, and disregards principles 
usually deemed sacred in society, with such facility, as 
ambition? What so completely transforms the char- 
acter, as ambition? What so readily leads the bosom 
astray, as ambition? What peoples the grave, like 
ambition? How early it began to work in the world! 
and how unceasing and unimpaired has its influence 
continued! ^'Let us make us a name!'' was the hope 
that deluded these first men; and many a subsequent 
projector, on the same vain principle, has built a Babel 
to his own confusion! And what heart is altogether 
dead to the passion? It was criminal, secondly and 
principally, we presume, because it had a tendency to 
counteract the designs of God: which designs had been 
explicitly communicated. The mandate of heaven is, 
*^Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth." 
This required them to spread themselves abroad upon 
its surface. But they deliberately and avowedly adopt 
a contrary resolution; and '"build a city and a tower, 
lesf^ they should "be scattered abroad upon the face 
of the whole earth." 

Would not men, by degrees, have separated with- 
out the alteration of language? It is very probable, 
that ambitious projects, in which they might not all 
concur, would have effected a separation: but in such a 
case, we can scarcely imagine, that such a division 
would take place without bloodshed. By the inter- 
position of heaven, they separated peaceably. Besides 
time would slowly have brought that to pass, which 
God accomplished at once; and had it been left to op- 
erations so gradual, the replenishing of the earth had 



126 

been greatly retarded. Not to say that without a dis- 
sonance of language, to a great degree the divisions of 
nations would have been lost; and they would, prob- 
ably, have blended again together. To this hour, lan- 
guage is the strongest line of separation drawn between 
man and man; and one of the most powerful bulwarks 
of the distinction subsisting between different nations. 
Would not language of itself have changed, as the 
people multiplied, without the interposition of Divine 
power? Of this, there can be no question: but in this 
case, it would only be a change of dialect, and not of 
language. In the revolution of a few centuries, what 
alterations have been made in our own tongue! Roll 
back but three or four hundred years, and we feel 
ourselves incapable of reading the dialect which our 
forefathers spoke. Yet rude and barbarous as it ap- 
pears, in it may be traced the basis of our present co- 
pious language. And, estimating the changes which 
time would have made, they will be found too grad- 
ual to have effected any separation. The alterations 
produced by years, are small, and slowly brought 
about: they consist, in changing a few words in the 
course of a century: forming a few others; and 
dropping, as obsolete, an inconsiderable number be- 
fore in use. This effects no division in a nation; 
and the same progression would have brought about 
none in the great body of mankind. Generation 
after generation would have passed, while the most 
trifling changes were forming. No motives would 
have been furnished for their living apart: no neces- 
sity would have arisen, from this quarter, for their dis- 
persion. But Deity interposed, to effect his own pur- 
pose; which was readily and completely accomplished 
by the confusion of language. We hasten, 



127 



II. TO DEDUCE FROM THIS FACT, SOME GONSID ORA- 
TIONS ADAPTED TO OUR INDIVIDUAL IMPROVEMENT. 

The prophet, whose words, at the commencement 
of the Lecture, we connected with the Mosaic history, 
has furnished us with a thread of reflection, which can- 
not fail to conduct us to the right use which we ought 
to make of this singular narrative. He has pronounr 
ced the application of the subject. "The pride of thine 
heart hath deceived thee, thou that dwelleth in the 
clefts of the rock, whose habitation is high; that saith 
in his heart, who shall bring me down to the ground? 
Though thou exalt thyself as the eagle, and though 
thou set thy nest among the stars, thence will I bring 
thee down saith the Lord!" Had he stood by and 
seen the project of these men, in its proud advance, 
and in its disastrous issue, he could not have painted 
their presumption, their folly, and their humiliation, in 
more striking language. The following remarks ap- 
pear clearly deducible from these words: 

1. Most of our errors originate in the "pride 
OF our hearts;" and this pride will always b^. 
found to have "deceived" us. 

It was this pride that dictated the haughty language 
of the king of Babylon, when, from the battlements of 
his palace, he looked down upon his beautiful city, 
and said — "Is not this great Babylon, that I have 
built for the house of the kingdom, by the might of 
my power, and for the honor of my majesty?" O, how 
the "pride of his heart deceived" him! "While the 
word was in the king's mouth, there fell a voice from 
heaven, saying, O king Nebuchadnezzar, to thee it is 
spoken^ the kingdom i& departed from thee!" The 



128 

<^same hour" was he "driven from men," and his 
"dwelling was with the beasts of the field:" his reason 
was withdrawn, — ''and his body was wet with the 
dew of heaven." Behold, he that would be thought a 
God, is become less than a man! Nor were the balan- 
ces of power again put into his hand, till he had been 
brought to confess, "that the Most High ruleth in the 
kingdom of men, and giveth it to whomsoever he 
will;" and to acknowledge, in a repentant decree, that 
"those who walk in pride, he is able to abase." 

Happy had it been for his successor, if this awful 
display of divine justice, had wrought in his heart, 
obedience. But Belshazzar learned not wisdom from 
his grandfather's humiliation. He exceeded his great 
progenitor in impiety. He stood on the pinnacle of 
empire, till he was giddy with gazing upon the rolling 
w^orld beneath him! The forces of Cyrus surrounded 
the city: but, trusting in its impregnable strength, the 
defence of the river, and the greatness of his stores, he 
laughed his enemies to scorn. The feast was spread, 
and the revellings had commenced. Death hovered 
round his court, and destruction brooded over his city, 
while he was sunk in senseless security. And now, 
the voice of joy, and the noise of riot, resound through 
the palace. The monarch calls upon his nobles to 
devote the hours to gaiety; to scatter their fears to the 
winds; to drink defiance to the warrior advancing to 
their very gates; and, to fill the measure of his iniqui- 
ty, to add insult to the miseries of his captives, to 
crown dissipation with sacrilege, he requires, last of all, 
the vessels of the sanctuary, that they might be profan- 
ed by their application to not merely common uses, 
but to the vile purposes of debauchery. It is done. 
The king is lost in unbounded pleasure, and intoxicat- 



129 

€(1 with unlimited power. In one moment, the voice 
of riot ceases, — silence, as profound as the stillness of 
the grave, reigns through the whole palace — every 
tongue is chained — every eye is fixed — despair lowers 
on every countenance — the charm is broken — and the 
night of feasting is turned into unutterable horror! See! 
yonder shadow, wearing the appearance of the fingers 
of a man^s hand, glides along the Wall of the palace 
opposite the monarch, and writes, in mysterious char- 
acters, ^'Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin." What has 
changed that youthful countenance? What has chased 
its bloom of beauty, and drawn on it the strong lines 
of misery? Behold, this king, who lately dreamed that 
he was more than mortal, trembling on his throne! 
"The joints of his loins are loosed, and his knees smite 
one against another!" What the army of Cyrus could 
not do, a supernatural hand, writing four little words, 
has effected; and his soul melts within him through 
terror! But say, what is the cause of this premature 
distress? Perhaps yonder insciiptiou declares the per- 
manence of his kingdom; and inscribes, in those hidden 
characters, the destruction of his enemies? Ah no! — 
Conscience read to well the handwriting: and inter- 
preted the solemn sentence of impending ruin, long 
before Daniel explained the inscription! While all was 
riot, during the first part of the night, and dismay, 
during the remainder, Cyrus had diverted the river 
from its course, had entered the city, through its ex- 
hausted channel, unperceived and was now at the 
palace gates. The empire was lost; the captive Jews 
were liberated: and "that same night was Belshazzar, 
the king of the Chaldeans, slain." Behold another, 
added to the innumerable sad evidences, that the 
17 



130 

^'piide of the heart" fatally ^'deceives," and finally 
ruins those who cherish it. 

2. Situations in life, which should lay the 
foundation of gratitude, when unsanctified, 
become the basis of rebellion. 

The prophet addressed those "who dwelt in the 
clefts of the rock, and whose habitation was high:'^ 
who enjoyed both an elevated, and a secure situation* 
This should have ministered to thankfulness: it should 
have reminded them of the hand that raised them to 
the eminence which they occupied. But no: it kin- 
dled "pride of heart:" it inflamed the imagination with 
the desire of independence: it stirred up rebellion: it 
implanted in their bosoms false confidence: it betray- 
ed them to their ruin. They said, '*Who shall bring 
me to the ground?" But the birth of their presump* 
tion was the death of their security: for while they 
spake these "great swelling w'ords" of arrogance, the 
protection of God was withdrawn. Adversity has 
"slain its thousands:" but prosperity its "tens of thou- 
sands." Those that have weathered the tempests of 
suffering, have been ingulfed in the whirlpool of dissi- 
pation. Elevation makes the head unsteady and the 
feet totter; therefore, if providence exalt you, hold fast 
the hand which conducts you to the perilous summit. 

3. No SITUATION IN LIFE, HOWEVER APPARENTLY 
FORTIFIED, IS SECURE, WHEN GOD IS OUR ENEMY. 

"Though thou exalt thyself as the eagle, and though 
thou set thy nest among the stars, thence will 1 bring 
thee down, saith the Lord." How clear and express 
are these words! "Though thou exalt thyself.^'' When 
God elevates a man, he gives him grace equal to his 
temptations: but there are, who make haste to be rich 
—who press through every consideration to power^- 



131 

who will be great— and "exalt themselves^^ at the sacri- 
fice of every principle. Yonder city rises on that de 
termination. The tower rapidly advances. It is of 
prodigious strength and magnitude. But its desolation 
is decreed in heaven; and although it aspired to the 
stars, it is brought down to the ground. Let us, there- 
fore, stoop to rise. Let us "humble ourselves under the 
mighty hand of God; and he shall exalt us in due 
time." If we would build securely, we must lay the 
foundation of our edifice on the top of yonder ever* 
lasting hills, and set up its walls in the unchangeable 
heavens: for 

"He builds too low, who builds beneath the skies!'* 

What, then, is their state, who are laboring to as* 
cend to heaven by a superstructure of their own ele- 
vation? who "reject the righteousness of God, and go 
about to establish one of their own?" — "The pride of 
their heart hath deceived them;" and divine agency 
alone can destroy the delusion. What shall be said 
to those who imagine themselves in security, yet have 
not "fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set be- 
fore them?" Even now is the decree of heaven gone 
forth against all ungodliness: even now is the sentence 
of condemnation issued against the impenitent: even 
now conscience thunders, "Thou art weighed in the 
balances and art found wanting! "—and God confirms 
the decision! 



LECTURE V. 

THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM AND GOMORRAH. 

. GENESIS XIX, 15—26'. 

And when the morning arose^ then the angels hastened 
Loty sayingjArise, take thy wife^ and thy two daugh- 
ters, which are here; lest thou be consumed in the 
iniquity of the city. And while lie lingered^ the men 
laid hold upon his hand, and upon the hand of his 
wife, and upon the hand of his two daughters; the 
Lord being merciful unto him: and they brought 
him forth, and set him without the city. And it 
came to pass, when they had brought them- forth 
abroad, that he said, Escape for thy life; look not 
behiiid thee, neither stay thou in all the plain; es- 
cape to the mountain, lest thou be consumed. And 
Lot said unto them, Oh not so, my Lord: Behold 
now, thy servant hath found grace in thy sight, and 
thou hast magnified thy mercy, which thou hast 
shewed unto me in saving my life; and I cannot es- 
cape to the mountain, lest some evil take me, and 
I die: Behold now this city is near to flee unto, and 
it is a Utile one: oh, let me escape tJiitlier, (is it not 
a little one?) and my soul shall live. And he said 
unto him, See, I have accepted tliee concerning this 
thing also, that I will not overthrow this city, for 
the which thou hast spoken. Haste thee, escape 
thither; for I cannot do any thing till thou be come 
thither. Therefore the name of the city was called 



132 

Zoav, The sun was risen upon the earth when Lot 
entered into Zoar. Then the Lord rained upon 
Sodom and Gomorrah brimstone and fire from the 
Lord out of heaven; and he overthrew those cities, 
and all the plain, and all the inhabitants oj the cit- 
ies, and that which grew upon the ground. But 
his wife looked back from behind him, and she be- 
came a pillar of salt. 

2 PETER 11, 6. 

^- — Turning the cities of Sodom and Gomor^rha into 
ashes, condemned them with an overthrow; making 
them an ensample unto those that after should live 
ungodly, 

THE history of Genesis is peculiarly interesting, be- 
cause it soon leaves the wide concerns of nations, and 
attaches itself to individuals. It discovers to us the De- 
ity commanding "light to shine out of darkness;" and 
presents a short, yet comprehensive, account of things^ 
the most sublime and difficult: it relates the destruc- 
tion, and the revolution, of the world; it gives us a clue 
by which we are enabled to trace the origin of nations; 
and after having thus opened a boundless scene before 
us, it relieves the mind, bewildered and wearied in its 
researches, by fixing the attention upon one quiet ob- 
ject. We find ourselves transported into the bosom 
of a family; and are encompassed, before we are aware, 
with the beauties and the pleasures of domestic life„ 
We unite in their devotions: glow with their ardor: 
weep with their sorrows; and rejoice in their prosper- 
ity. The fluctuations of empires, the revolutions of 
states, the achievements of ambition, distract and tire 
our attention: but in entering into the concerns of a 



ISS 

family, every man feels himself at home — in pursu- 
ing the hopes and fears, the labors and disappoint- 
ments, of an individual, every man traces the image of 
his own anxieties and pleasures. 

When we turn over the pages of profane writers, 
what different scenery is presented! We justly admire 
the beauties of Homer: as a poet truly sublime; pos- 
sessing a genius which soared high above the common 
standard of human intellect. In energy of composi- 
tion, in loftiness of language; in richness of imagery, 
he stands unrivalled — he ranks next to the sacred wri- 
ters. But in his works, from first to last, we are drag- 
ged through fields of slaughter: or trace the mortifying 
windings of human corruption: or are surrounded 
with scenes, over which humanity drops tears of uni- 
versal regret. We hear in strains, the most harmonious, 
a hero sung, returning from the battle, covered with 
human blood. The martial music that announces his 
approach, is drowned in the shrieks of orphans. The 
laurel of w^hich he proudly boasts, was nourished in 
the empurpled plains of carnage, and snatched from 
the field of death. 

Hail, peaceful retreats! Ye calm, suquestered, tran- 
quil tents, that stretched your quiet shadow over the 
head of the venerable patriarch, and shielded him 
from the heat of the day — welcome to the mind's eye! 
Far be the scene of desolation! Approach, ye gentle 
shadows that once lived in this valley of tears; and 
even now that ye are borne away to heaven, return to 
our imagination, and revisit us in the sacred pages! 
Let the maddening world seek ''the battle of the war- 
rior with confused noise:" we love to observe the 
pleasing bonds of friendship, and to admire the do- 
mestic felicity of a pious family. To the hero, whq 



134 

delights in '•garments rolled in blood," we consign the 
pages that describe, in colors, alas! too natural, the 
horrors of war. Be it ours, to listen to the music of 
the grove; to trace the windings of the rivulet; to read 
the name of God in the starry heavens; and to follow 
the good man through his chequered life, to a "city of 
habitation." While others burn with the ardor of the 
warrior, let us glow with the exalted piety shining 
through the character of those good men, who bor- 
rowed all their lustre from friendship with God! 

After the memorable event, which formed the sub- 
ject of discussion in the last Lecture, we are introduced, 
rather suddenly, to the great progenitor of the Jewish 
nation: in whose "seed;" it is promised, "ail nations of 
the earth shall be blesssed." Terah, the father of Abra- 
ham,descended in a direct line from Seth. Idolatry had 
already commenced, and was widely diffused, when 
"Terah took Abram his son, and Lot the son of Ha- 
ran, his son's son. and Sarai his daughter-in-law, his 
son Abram's wife; and they went forth with them 
from Ur of the Chaldees, to go into the land of Ca- 
naan; and they came unto Haran, and dwelt there. 
And the days of Terah were two hundred and five 
years: and Terah died in Haran," Idolatry was 
probably the cause of this removal. The city in which 
they dwelt was the centre of superstition: it was cal- 
led Ur, which signifies ^re, or lighl; a name which 
w^as probably given it, like Heliopolis, because it was 
devoted particularly to the worship of fire, and conse- 
crated to the sun.* It appears that God had expressly 
testified his will, that Abramshould proceed to Canaan; 
and, obeying the call of heaven, '*he went out, nofc, 

• See iK>te 1, of ibis Lecture, at the end of the voluuTie. 



135 

knowing whither he went." At an advanced age, 
this patriarch left his home, and his connexions: for 
he was "seventy-five years old, when he departed out 
of Haran." Lot, his brother's son, accompanied him. 
Possibly, as he was childless, it was Abram's intention 
to adopt him: but a better, and a stronger, reason, for 
his attachment to his uncle, was, that the hand of 
heaven had touched his heart; and that he acted in 
obedience to the same divine mandate, which had led 
Abram into a strange land, even when the pressure of 
years was bending his steps towards the valley of the 
shadow of death. 

Oh, the triumphs of faith! It overlooks intervening 
years, and regards the promised blessing as already in 
possession! It removes every difficulty; answers evoy 
objection; and never rests till its end is obtained! Exer- 
cised by delays, it patiently endures: corrected by 
trials, it prepares its possessor for the good to which it 
is pressing forward; and crowned with ultimate suc- 
cess, it throws over him a glory, undiminished by the 
revolution of years^ and untarnished by the hand of 
age. 

To manifest how large a portion of this grace this 
truly great man possessed, he was named, "the father 
of the faithful;" and so pleasing in the eyes of Deity 
were the traits of his character, that God conferred 
upon him a title more dignified, more glorious, and 
more enviable, than the greatest monarch, and the 
proudest conqueror, ever enjoyed — he was called, "the 
Friend of God." 

Yet was he but a man! His exalted character — and 
his holy life — were sometimes tarnished with human 
weakness. Oh! where was his faith in the protecting 
hand of heaven, when unguardedly, yet deliberately, 



137 

he sought refuge in prevarication, to save hiniself from 
violence in Egypt, on account of his wife? "Say, I 
pray thee, thou art nny sifter!" It was not indeed an 
absolute fal&thood in point of fact; but it was a wilful 
intent to deceive, which enters directly into the nature, 
and forms all the character, of lying. The compas- 
sion of God to human infirmity, was manifest, in cast- 
ing a juantle of forgiveness over this sinful pusillanim- 
ity. The hand of Deity was still stretched out in his 
defence; and his unchangeable Friend was better to him 
than his fears. But as he used unlawful means to 
secure his safety, his sin was made his punishment. 
Pharaoh, justly exasperated at the deception practised 
upon him; and fearing the anger of God, who had 
afflicted his house with great plagues; restored his wife, 
but banished him from his dominions. Thus, simply, 
in the use of the means, to rely upon God, in the hour 
of peril, will always defend us from danger, and deliv- 
er us from evil: but to distrust the Deity, and to shelter 
ourselves under our own unlawful, or sinful, devices, 
exposes us to incalculable difficulties, and will involve 
us in trouble, in the very midst of deliverance. 

As Abram journeyed in the road by which he had 
descended into Egypt, he came again to an altar, 
which he had before set up, in his way thither. Sweet 
are the recollections of kindnesses received; and pleas- 
ant the memorials of mercies departed! If we were to 
accustom ourselves to rear tokens of remembrance 
for every assistance which we derive from God; and 
to erect an altar where we receive a mercy; how many 
evidences for good would be presented in the retro- 
spection of our lives; and the review of the past, would 
create confidence for the future. The moss might 
grow over the pillar, and the fire of the altar would 
18 



138 

go out: but the inscription would be fresh on the tablet 
of memory, and gratitude would kindle the purer 
flame of affection in the heart. Thus Abram reared 
an altar in his way to Egypt; and found it again on 
his return. Thus Jacob elevated a pillar, at Bethel, 
after his vision of God; and with what feelings did he 
revisit it, wiien he was delivered from his fears, and 
increased in his blessings! Thus "Samuel" took a stone, 
'^and set it up between Mizpah and Shen, and called 
the name of it Ebenezer, saying 'Hitherto hath the 
Lord helped us!' " It is not necessary that we should 
erect these outward memorials: but let the pillar be 
raised in our bosoms, and the inscription read in our 
lives! 

Multiplied in goods, at length it became necessary 
that Abram and Lot should separate. There are few 
blessings of life unalloyed — few trials unmixed. The 
good that we pant after, has some unseen evil annexed 
to it, which will arise to cloud it in the very moment 
of possession; and the evil that we deprecate produces 
some happy effect, which does not always cease when 
its immediate cause is withdrawn. Adversity often 
unites the various branches of a family — prosperity as 
frequently separates them. The one teaches them 
that they ought to have a common concern — the other 
has an unhappy tendency to persuade them that they 
have a separate interest — and in many instances the 
latter is but too successful! Prosperity divided Abram 
and Lot. The place was too strait for their flocks; 
and the herdmen, on either side, had augmented the 
difficulty by contention. Oh! who will not admire' 
the spirit of Abram? "And Abram said unto Lot, 
'Let there be no strife, I pray thee, between thee and 
me—between thy herdmen and my herdmen— -for we 



13d 

are brethren! Is not the whole land before thee? Sep- 
arate thyself, I pray thee, from me. If thou .vilt take 
the left hand, then I will go to the right: or \\ thou de- 
part to the right hand, then I will go to the left!' " 
Although the elder, he thought it no disgrace to yield; 
and, by his submission, proved his greatness of mind. 
As the younger, it was the duty of Lot to have stoop- 
ed: as the superior, Abram might have commanded. 
But no — his language is, "We are brethren!" Lovely 
spirit of pure and undefiled religion! how it fosters the 
charities of human life! how it soothes the turbulence 
of passion! how it promotes the peace of society! It 
quenches the spark that was just bursting into a con- 
flagration. It unites more closely the knot that was 
almost unfolded. It knits together the link that was 
nearly broken. It extinguishes the torch of war; and 
banishes contention from the domestic circle. Lot 
chose the plain of Jordan, near Sodom and Gomor« 
rah, into which he afterwards entered, and where he 
resided; and it was "well watered every where, as the 
garden of the Lord." 

The chain of history is broken, to relate in its order, 
a battle which was fought in the vale of Siddim. This 
event is recorded in a style exactly suited to the con- 
test. The abrupt manner in which it breaks in upon 
the peaceful history, appears adapted to the relation 
of a tumult, which suddenly destroyed the harmony 
of the country, and depopulated cities, previously 
slumbering in tranquillity. Where now is the fruitful 
plain? the vallies watered by a thousand rills? and the 
smiling pastures, which charmed the eye of Lot? Ah! 
war has shaken his destructive scouroe over them^-^^ 
has blasted their verdure-^and transformed, by his 
withering frown, this terrestrial paradise into a de^j- 



140 

Jate wilderness! Lot himself was taken prisoner. Ncr 
sooner were the tidings brought to Abram, than he 
roused to exertion; and arming his household, to the 
amount of three hundred and eighteen men, he rescu- 
ed his brother and delivered the vanquished captives. 
The only difficulty arising here is this: how was it 
possible for Abram, with three hundred and eighteen 
men, to oppose successfully /bi<r kings; and to prevail 
over their armies already flushed with conquest? To 
remove this apparent objection to the sacred history, 
it is necessary to remark, that these kings were noth- 
ing more than rulers of four little cities, close by each 
other, whose combined forces, in that battle, probably, 
did not so considerably exceed Abram's armed ser- 
vants as a superficial reader might imagine. It should 
also be remembered, that Abram closely pursued, and 
overtook them, when they w^ere wearied with the toils 
of battle, sunk in revellings and unsuspicious of danger. 
The nerve of war was relaxed; and the softness of sen- 
suality had already overpowered them. The servants 
of Abram possessed their full vigor; and the banner of 
divine protection waved over their heads. 

On his return from this conquest, we are introduced 
to a very extraordinary personage. Melchisedec met 
him, blessed him, and received tythes at his hand. 
Little is known, and much has been conjectured, re- 
specting this august stranger. His names appear to 
denote a character of moral excellence. Melchisedec 
signifies king of righteousness; and Melchisalem, tran- 
lated in our bibles, '-king of Salem," implies king of 
peace. The apostle who wrote to the Hebrews, con- 
siders him as a type of the Lord Jesus; and describes 
him "without father, without mother, without descent; 
Jwing neither beginning of days nor end of lifeo'"* 



141 

The obvious meaning of these declarations is, that we 
know nothing of his birtli — nothing of his death — 
neither can we trace his genealogy. Introduced thus 
abruptly, he disappears as suddenly; and w^e hear of 
him no more. The veil is lifted to discover him; and 
having just seen him, it is dropped — and hides him 
from us for ever! 

The toils of battle are succeeded by a solemn inter- 
view with Jehovah. "The word of God came to Abram 
in a vision." It was a w^ord of consolation; it was a 
message of encouragement. A son was promised; and 
it was declared his seed should be, "as the stars of 
heaven," — innumerable. As a ratification of this sol- 
emn engagement, he w^as commanded to prepare a sac- 
rifice. During the whole day, he waited the promis- 
ed visit from heaven; "and when the fowls came down 
on the carcasses, Abram drove them away." But 
"when the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell up- 
on Abram; and lo, an horror of great darkness fell 
upon him." Then the Deity renewed the promise 
before made to him; and predicted the slavery and the 
deliverance of his descendants in Egypt. And this 
w^as the sign of the covenant: "it came to pass, that 
when the sun went down, and it was dark, behold, a 
smoking furnace, and a burning lamp, that passed be- 
tween the pieceSr" 

O Christian! in religious worship, guard against in- 
truding thoughts: they are as the fowls descending to 
pollute, and to devour, thy sacrifice: like Abram, let 
it be thy effort to drive them away. Guard the offer- 
ing from the unhallowed intruders; and if God delay, 
patiently w ait the manifestation of his presence. "The 
vision is for an appointed time; it w-ill come, it will not 
tarry" beyond the mofient of divine appointment. 



142 

Enter with solemnity into the presence of God; and 
approach him with seriousness. Every visit from the 
Divinity, is awful. "An horror of great darkness fell 
upon Abram." "And Jacob awakened out of his 
sleep, and he said, ^Surely the Lord is in this place; and 
I knew it not.' And he was afraid, and said, 'How 
dreadful is this place! this is none other but the house 
of God, and this is the gate of heaven!' " 

A new source of sorrow soon arises; and Abram's 
domestic tranquillity is broken, by a contention be- 
tween his wife and the servant whom she had given 
to cover what she deemed her reproach. What a 
chequered scene is the life of the best of men! Some- 
times irradiated with the glory of divine intercourse: 
at others, clouded by public, or domestic, trial. Abram 
is "a stranger, and a pilgrim." The beauty of his 
wife ensnares him in Egypt. His prevarication drives 
him thence. Their mutual prosperity renders a sep- 
aration between him and Lot necessary — and effects 
the division. War breaks in upon his repose; and 
requires him to 'crush his aged limbs in ungentle 
steel.' He forgets his labors and sorrows, in the bles- 
sings of divine communion, and in the soothing prom- 
ises of a gracious covenant; when a contention is kind- 
led, which consumes his dearest comforts; an affliction 
springs up, which touches him in the most tender 
part; and his house becomes "divided against itself.'^ 
Trials from without may be endured; and the man 
retires from the scene of strife and mortification, to a 
smiling family circle; he regains his temper, reassumes 
his tranquillity, renews his smiles, and forgets his vex- 
ations; but when domestic harmony is destroyed, the 
very sources of peac&are dried up; and it is in. vain to 
look abroad for consolation. The man's joys are pol- 



143 

luted at their very fountain; and all their separate 
streams will necessarily flow defiled through all their 
ramifications. Peace affi ighted, frequently flies from 
the tumults of the world, and alights, an angel form, 
in the bosom of a family: but if she is a stranger at 
home, we shall look for her in vain at the exchange of 
merchandize, and in the public walks of life. 

The issue of this contest was — Hagar fled. While 
she was prosperous and vain, she was left to taste the 
bitterness of her own folly: but the moment earth 
abandoned her, heaven took up her cause: God be- 
came the friend of the fugitive; and her name no 
sooner appeared on the list of the desolate, than the 
care of her fortunes was transferred from man to the 
Deity; and he became her guardian. She was culpa- 
ble: and her fault had its conespondent penalty. Her 
foolish pride had embittered the peace of the family; 
and she lost the shelter of the roof under which she 
had introduced discord. We are displeased with the 
culprit: but we are moved at her punishment. A voice 
more than human is heard in the solitude; and arrests 
her attention. An angel is sent to her with a message 
full of consolation. Her eyes, which were clouded by 
sorrow, no sooner glanced upon her unexpected and 
illustrious visitor, than a gleam of hope illumined them: 
but when he unfolded the singular character, and the 
future fortunes, of her unborn child, they brightened 
into the full radiance of joy. It was ordained that his 
name should be Ishmael; and it was predicted concern- 
ing him, *'He will be a wild man; his hand will be 
against every man, and every man's hand against him; 
and he shall dwell in the presence of all his brethren." 
His descendants, the Arabs, have well accomplished 
the prophecy, at every period of their history. Living 



144 

by plunder, and in perpetual Warfare with all the" 
world — remote from cities, and scattered in wandering 
tribes over the desert — resisted, yet invincible — they 
are "wild men;" their "hand is against every man" — 
and '^every man's hand is against them" — and they 
^^dwell in the presence of all their brethren." Heaven 
does not interpose to cherish a proud spirit, but to sub- 
due it; and Hagar, having provoked the harshness 
with which her mistress treatec} her, is expected to 
make concessions, and commanded to return to Sarai. 
Her master's roof once more shelters her; and under its 
shadow the promised child is born. 

Thirteen years from this period, God renewed his 
covenant with Abram; and gave the seal of circumci- 
sion. On this memorable occasion, the names of the 
pdtriarch, and of his wife, were changed to Abraham 
and Sarah, as more appropriate to the blessings that 
awaited them. Abram signifies high, or exalted 
father — a name of great respectability: Abraham im- 
plies father of nations — a name that embraces the lati- 
tude of the divine promise. Sa7^ai signifies my prin- 
cess — an appellation of fond regard: Sarah implies a 
princess — a title of honor, dignity, and dominion. 

In the same year the Deity again visited him as he 
sat at the door of his tent on the plains of Mamre. 
Three personages, apparently men, approached him: 
but although so thick a veil concealed them, he soon 
discovered that they were more than human. The 
promise of a child by Sarah, was confirmed by new 
protestations. We presume not to develope the mys- 
tery of these three extraordinary characters. Various 
conjectures have been formed respecting them; and to 
listen to conjectures is a fruitless and an endless labor. 
The person who remained with Abraham, when two 
departed towards Sodom^ carries features of marked 



145 

preeminence; and is expressly called Jehovah. Some 
have supposed that an angel, bearing the commands 
of Deity, was honored with that awful name, and 
used the lofty and dignified language which appears 
on this part of the sacred record. We believe that, 
on this supposition, this instance is unparalleled in the 
scriptures. Others again imagine, as it appears to us, 
with greater reason, that it was the Son of God, 
attended by two angels. To him, this great and lofty 
name belongs by right; and to him it is repeatedly 
assigned in the Bible. Jeremiah applies it to Jesus 
Christ without scruple. "Behold, the days come, saith 
the Lord, that I will raise unto David a righteous 
branch; and a king shall reign and prosper, and shall 
execute judgment and justice in the earth. In his days, 
shall Judah be saved, and Israel shall dwell safely; 
and this is the name whereby he shall be called — 
Jehovah our Righteousness.*" 

The two angels having departed, the august person- 
age, who bears every feature of Deity, and whom 
Abraham addresses with all the humility which a deep 
sense of the Divine presence alone can inspire, impart* 
ed his displeasure, and his designs against Sodom and 
Gomorrah, with the cities of the plain. t The remem- 
brance of Lot, conspired with the feelings of human- 
ity, to raise the combined voices of affection and of 
pity on behalf of the rebels doomed to destruction. 
Compassion touched his heart for the offenders, while 
he loathed their guilt; and the residence of a part of 
his own family among them, suggested a plea, — "Wilt 
thou also destroy the righteous with the wicked?" His 
language is powerful; for the heart dictated it: but it 

• Jer. xxlii, 5, 6. 
f See note 2, at the end of the volume. 

19 



146 

is submissive; for the spirit of real religion directed it. 
What a pattern for us, in our addresses to the Deity! 
^'Behold now, 1 have taken upon me to speak unto the 
Lord, which am but dust and ashes!" — '-Oh, let not the 
Lord be angry, and I will speak!" — and this humility 
introduces and pervades every petition. What a re- 
proof to those who dare to approach the Majesty of 
heaven irreverently; and to speak with unhallowed 
familiarity to the high and lofty One who inhabiteth 
the praises of eternity! 

According to the hospitality of the ancients, Lot sat 
at the gate of the city to invite to his habitation any 
stranger who might enter. To refresh the heart of the 
traveller, wearied with the toils of the day, and way- 
worn; to wash his feet; to give him a morsel of bread, 
a pillow for repose, a smile of peace; and to send him 
on his way rejoicing, in the morning — this was practi- 
cal religion, beaming forth in her native simplicity, 
from a patriarch's eyes. The two angels, who had left 
Abraham, approached Sodoin. Lot addressed them 
in language which implied that he was about to re- 
ceive, and not to confer an obligation. "Behold now, 
my lords, turn in, I pray you, into your servant's house, 
and tarry all night, and wash your feet, and ye shall 
rise up early and go on your ways. And they said, 
Nay, but we will chide in the street all night. And 
he pressed upon them greatly: and they turned in un- 
to him, and entered into his house; and he made them 
a feast, and did bake unleavened bread, and they did 
eat." This is the politeness of nature; and the true . 
method of conferring a favor. It does not appear 
that, at this time, he knew them: and, referring most 
probably to this event, the apostle who wrote to the 
Hebrewsdirects, "Be not forgetful to entertain stran- 



147 



gers; for thereby some have entertained angels una- 



wares." 



We draw a veil over the brutal scene which fol- 
lows. — It is sufficient to remark, that such was the ex- 
treme and unpardonable wickedness of those detesta- 
ble cities, that the indignation of God, manifested on 
their polluted plains, must be completely justified, even 
in the apprehension of short-sighted mortals. 

At length their commission is opened before Lot, 
He is commanded to bring all that he held dear from 
a place devoted to destruction. He was compelled 
reluctantly to abandon his sons-in-law: who regarded 
him '^as one that mocked." The angels hastened his 
lingering steps — urged his immediate departure — 
snatched him f^pm his dangerous hesitation — and left 
him not, till they had conducted him to a place of 
safety. "Then the Lord reigned upon Sodom and 
upon Gomorrah, brimstone and fire from the Loro 
out of heaven." 

We have now touched the principal point of the 
present Lecture. The Destruction of Sodom and 
Gomorrah, is confirmed and established, by evidences 
at once short, comprehensive, and satisfactory. They 
are included in the following arrangement: The nar- 
rative of Moses: the testimony of ancient writers; and 
the features of desolation remaining on the spot, 

I. THE NARRATIVE OF MOSES, 

We have selected for our contemplation, the mo- 
ment when the attention is arrested by the conviction of 
impending danger; and the point of history where the 
interest of the reader is excited in anticipation of its 
issue. The sacred writer discovers in this, as in every 
record of his pen, singqlar ability in touching the heart; 



14^ 

while he preserves a wonderful simplicity throughout 
the whole narration. Ail is nature in his descriptions; 
and his assertions bear, on their very face, the impress 
of truth. With what grandeur the scene opens upon us. 
The day dawns, which is to vanish from the eyes of 
the wicked before its meridian; and they gaze, uncon- 
scious of dangerj upon the earliest glories of the east, 
which are so soon, as it respects them, to be extin- 
guished in eternal night. Lot emerges from the pollu- 
ted scenes of depravity, an instance of the goodness of 
God; and escapes the crsolation which demonstra- 
ted his just severity. '^ And when the morning arose, 
then the angels hastened Lot, saying, Arise, take thy 
wife, and thy two daughters, which are here; lest 
thou be consumed in the iniquity of the city.^^ The 
niglit istheseason of alarm and of danger. As the gloom 
thickens, every object wears a portentous aspect. Its 
solemnity deepens the cloud of affliction; and throws 
a darker shade over sorrow itself It is the time for 
awful deeds. Then the murderer stalks abroad to de- 
stroy; and his "feet are swift to shed blood." Then 
the adultress spreads her toils to ensnare. Then vio- 
lence is prepared to "smite with the fist of wickedness;'' 
and the thief treads softly, that he may ''break through 
and steal." Then the sinner hastens to iniquity, in 
imaginary security under the covert of midnight, and 
says, in the ignorance and presumption of his hearty 
*'Tush! Goda^th not see!" It was at night, that the 
destroying angel passed through Egypt to slay the first- 
born: at night,that the sword of the Lord penetrated the 
camp of Assyria, and destroyed an hundred and eigh- 
ty-five thousand men: at night, that the shadow of a 
hand wrote on the wall of Belshazzar's palace, the de~ 
parture of his kingdom, the close of his glories, and of 



149 

his life together, and the scrutiny of justice, with its 
perilous consequences. But the day has ever been re- 
garded as the season of security. The first ray of the 
morning chases the phantoms of the imagination, and 
terminates the horrors of fancy. Light discovers 
real peril, and bears with it the means of escape. 
When the day breaks upon us, it scatters peace, and 
joy, and safety, in its smiles. Ah, how little do w^e 
know where danger lurks, and when the dream of 
happiness shall be broken! Sodom escapes the perils 
of night, to fall by unexpected vengeance in the morn- 
ing! "And while he lingered^^ — who that had a heart 
to feel, and connexions to relinquish; could refrain? — 
^^ while he lingered the men laid hold of his hand, and 
upon the hand of his wife, and upon the hand of his 
two daughters; the Lord being merciful unto him: 
and they brought him forth and set Mm without the 
city,^^ A gentle constraint is laid upon him, to snatch 
him from ruin. It is thus that we feel a divine power 
gently attracting us from the world to the cross: we 
are drawn with "the cords of love:" no violence is 
imposed upon our will in leading us from the paths of 
death: but we feel, and acknowledge, that it is he^ 
"who worketh in us to will and to do his own good 
pleasure." It is thus when our wandering hearts "fol- 
low lying vanities, and forsake their own mercies," 
that God sends some gentle and salutary affliction, to 
chastise our folly, and to bring our spirit home to its 
rest. "And it came to pass, when they had brought 
them forth abroad^ that he said, Escape for thy life; 
look not behind thee, neither stay thou in all the 
plain; escape to the mountain lest thou be consumed.^^ 
Judgment once awakened is not always directed to 
discriminate characters; and the righteous are some- 



156 

times permitted to suffer in the general calamity. It 
is not safe to dwell in the tents of sin; and those who 
take up their abode in the tabernacles of the wicked 
must be content to share their portion, and their pun- 
ishment — at least, in the present life. Nothing short, 
of a total separation from them can afford security: for 
to linger on the plain is as hazardous as to tarry in the 
city. ''And Lot said unto them. Oh, not so, my Lord.'^ 
In the very midst of danger, and while the cloud of 
ruin hangs over his head, self willed man cannot re- 
frain from opposing his opinions to the arrangements of 
Deity; and it must be "according to his mind " or he 
will scarcely be satisfied with his deliverance. ''Behold 
now, thy servant hath found grace in thy sighV^ — 
should he therefore presume? "and thou hast magni- 
fied thy mercy, which thou hast shewed unto me in 
saving my life;^^ should he not therefore be satisfied? 
Is the goodness of God a reason why he should tempt 
his forbearance? "and I cannot escape to the mountain'^ 
— why not? What shall hinder when God leads the 
way? what can successfully oppose, when he com- 
mands? "lest some evil take me and IdieP^ O thou of 
Jittle faith! wherefore didst thou doubt? Was not he, 
who led thee forth from the midst of a people given 
over to utter desolation, strong to deliver? Was he 
not able to preserve thee? And had he not given a tac- 
it pledge of security, in the very command which he 
issued? "Behold now this city is near tojlee unto, and 
it is a little one^' — it is a small request that I prefer, in 
comparison with the unsolicited mercy which thou 
hast already manifested; or, it is a little city, and may 
well be spared in so wide and general a destiuction as 
thine offended justice meditates — "Oh, let me escape 
thither, (is it not a little one?) and my soul shall live.^^ 



151 

What is the punishment which awaits the man who 
dares to lift his little plans to a competition with the 
wisdom of Deity? Let us adore the long suffering of 
God! Heaven lends a gracious ear to this supplication; 
''and he said unto him, See, I have accepted thee con- 
cerning this thing also, that I will not overthrow this 
city, for the which thou hast spoken.''^ How consistent 
is this with the character of God, who delighteth to 
have mercy, and to forgive! Lot had an high gratification 
in seeing this little object of his compassion escape the 
devastation of its vicinity, if benevolence urged his 
plea: but if selfishness dictated it, as the narrative 
seems to insinuate, he was greatly disappointed: for 
although his request was granted, his terrors suffered 
bim not to derive from it the advantage which he pro- 
posed: since he afterwards abandoned the retreat 
w^hich he had chosen, and fled to the mountain, whith- 
er God had at first directed him, '^for he feared to 
dwell in Zoar." ''Haste thee, escape tJiither;^^ thy 
presence disarms my w^rath, and withholds my right. 
eous vengeance: ''for I cannot do any thing till thou 
be come thither.^^ Behold the value and importance 
of one righteous man? It was the lip of infallible truth, 
which said of his disciples— "Ye are the salt of the 
earth!" ''Therefore,^^ In remembrance of the success- 
ful plea of Lot, "the name of the city was called Zo- 
ar.^^ which signifies little., and relates to the argument 
which its intercessor used. Most of the names, given 
to persons, and to things, in the scriptures, bear a ref- 
erence to some signal circumstances, more nearly, 
or remotely, connected with them. 

" The sun was risen upon the earth when Lot entered 
into ZoarJ^ This calm is perfectly natural, and agrees 
w^ith almost every account transmitted to us, of tern- 



152 

pests, earthquakes, and great convulsions of nature. 
We know that the wind usually falls, and that there is 
a profound serenity diffused over the atmosphere, be- 
fore a storm. The former part of that day, in which 
Lisbon was destroyed by an earthquake, was uncom- 
monly fine; and the danger w^as not even apprehend- 
ed, till an unusual subterraneous noise, and a slight 
trembling of the ground, preceded, for a few moments, 
the first great shock which almost levelled the whole 
city. This same agitation of the earth was almost uni- 
versal, and extended nearly over the whole globe; and 
in every place where it was felt, the same tranquillity 
was observed to reign, before the calamity was endured. 
This calm, however, is unspeakably dreadful! Who 
can read this single verse without shuddering? As the 
destruction was unexpected, it was the more terrible; and 
as it was sudden, it admitted of no escape. The sons- 
in-law of Lot mocked his admonitions; and they were 
roused to a sense of their importance and truth, only 
by the hand of death. Let this consideration prepare 
us for a still greater event, in the solemnities of which 
we must all participate; and which will be equally sud- 
den and unexpected: for "as it was in the days of Lot, 
even so shall the coming of the Son of man be!" 

''Then the Lord rained upon Sodom and upon 
Gomorrah, brimstone and fire from the Lord out of 
heaven; and he overthrew those cities, and all the 
plain, and all the inhabitants of the cities, and that 
which grew upon the ground.^^ Some commentators 
translate the words "brimstone and fire," brimstone 
inflamed; and the interpretation which they build 
upon this translation is, that brimstone inflamed, in the 
Hebrew style of writing, signifies neither more nor 
less, than lightning. It is reasonable to conclude, that 



153 

this lightning penetrated so far into tlie veins of bitu- 
men, with which these plains are known to be impreg- 
nated, as to enkindle the combustible matter; which 
would quickly communicate its heat and flame to the 
cities, and to the whole country, more entirely and ex- 
peditiously than the lava of a burning mountain lays 
waste the lands over which it flows: and after con- 
suming all that was capable of such a destruction, 
formed the heavy, fetid, unwholesome lake, called the 
Dead Sea, from its wide expansion, and the stillness 
of its waters. Justin observes, respecting this sea, that 
it cannot be moved by the winds, by reason of the 
large quantity of bitumen immersed in it; which also 
renders it incapable of being navigated. The same 
remark will not be found to apply to the same sea in 
the present day; as we hav^e instances of some modern 
travellers having ventured to bathe in it: but this also 
may be accounted for, on the same principle; the di- 
minution of the bitumen; which is continually re- 
moved, by persons on the spot, as it emerges from this 
singular lake. Neither is it true^ that no bird will ad- 
venture to stretch his wing across it, as some ancient 
writers have asserted: for many have been observed to 
sport along its dreary banks: but the salt with which 
it is impregnated is inimical to vegetation; its waves 
retain a sufficient degree of malignity to endanger the 
health of those who are rash enough to plunge into 
its unnatural waters; and it retains a sufficient degree 
of desolation, to justify the description of the destruc- 
tion suggested in the present Lecture; and to confirm 
the general account of antiquity, making a reasonable 
allowance for the alterations which time may be sup- 
posed to have effected. 
20 



154 

"'But his wife looked back from behind him, and 
^he became a pillar of saltJ^ A learned writer* ob- 
serves, '^The sulphureous storm did not begin to fall 
upon Sodom, till Lot was safely arrived at Zoar. But 
his wife looked back before he reached Zoar: for she 
looked back/ro?n behind him, as he was going to Zoar. 
When she looked back, Sodom and its plains appeared 
as pleasant as before. She looked back with affection 
to the place, and regret at leaving it: according to the 
import of the original ivord. This implied unbelief.'^ 
She wavered — "she stopped by the way, and left her 
husband to go by himself" — in the fluctuations of her 
mind, '^she would proceed no farther; and might be 
at a considerable distance from Zoar, and so near to 
Sodom, as, probably, to be involved in the terrible 
shower, and thereby turned into a nitro-sulphureous 
pillar:" — or at least to be suffocated by it, and incrust- 
ed with it. This gives proper force to our Lord's ad- 
monition, Remember Lofs wife.-f Let the judgment 
of God upon her, warn you, of the folly and danger 
of hankering after, and being loath to part with, small 
and temporal things, when your life and happiness, 
the greatest, and most lasting concerns, are at stake." 

We lead you forwards to another branch of evi- 
dence; 

II. THE TESTIMONY OF ANCIENT WRITERS. 

It is asserted by Tacitus, that the traces of the fire 
which consumed these cities were visible in his days. 
''At no great distance are those fields, which, as it is 
said, were formerly fruitful, and covered with great 

*Dr. Taylor, in his Scheme of Scripture Divinity: now out of print, but 
preserved in Bishop Watson's Theological Tracts, vol. i,chap. xxv, p.IG6. 
f Luke xvii, 32. 



155 

Gities, till they were consumed by lightning: the vesti- 
ges of which remain in the parched appearance of the 
country, which has lost its fertility.*" 

The testimony of Philot and of Pliny J accords with 
that of the Roman historian. 

Diodorus Siculus describes the lake Asphaltites at 
large, in two different parts of his work; and concludes 
his account by saying, "The region round about 
burning with fire, exhales a stench so intolerable, that 
the bodies of the inhabitants are diseased, and their 
lives contracted.^" 

Strabo, in writing on the same subject, thus con- 
cludes: ''There are many indications that fire has been 
over this country: for about Masada they shew rough 
and scorched rocks, and caverns in many places eaten 
in, and the earth reduced to ashes, and drops of pitch 
distilling from the rocks, and hot streams, offensive afar 
off, and habitations overthrown; which renders credi- 
ble, some reports among the inhabitants, that there 
were formerly thirteen cities on that spot, the principal 
of which was Sodom; so extensive as to be sixty fur- 
longs in circumference; but that by earthquakes, and 
an eruption of fire, and by hot and bituminous waters, 
it became a lake as it now is; the rocks were con- 
sumed, some of the cities were swallowed up, and oth- 
ers abandoned by those of the inhabitants who were 
able to escape II . 

Similar to this is the language of Solinus. "At a 
considerable distance from Jerusalem, a frightful lake 
extends itself, which has been struck by lightning, as 
is evident from the ground, black; and reduced to 
ashes. "T[ He goes on to relate the fable of the applet 

*Tacit. Hist. lib. v. fPhilo de Vita Mosis. 

TPlin. Hist. lib. v. cap. 16, §Diod. Sic. lib. ii. et lib. xix 

II Strabo. lib, xvi. ^Solinvis^ cap. xxxvi, edit, SahBaiilf*n??' 



156 

growing near it, which were said to appear fair to the 
eye, but to contain only sooty ashes, and upon being 
touched, to exhale into smoke, or to vanish into dust. 
The same fiction is mentioned also by Tacitus: but we 
must learn, in receiving the testimony of ancient histo- 
rians, to distinguish between truth and fable, to separ- 
ate the former from the latter, with which it is often 
found overwhelmed, to discriminate between the fact 
and the legend, to divide that which they saw, from 
that which they admitted only from tradition, to make 
allowance for their credulity, and impartially to weigh 
the evidence which they produce. Moses is not an- 
swerable for the fondness which they discovered for 
the marvellous, nor for the fables which tradition 
blended with his history. Neither is their ac- 
count of that wdiich they saw, to be rejected for the 
easy credit which they gave to that which they only 
heard, and heard from disputable authority. While 
the facts of the Mosaic history are confirmed, his su- 
perior purity, and consequently credibility is estab- 
lished. 

Among the moderns, Bisselius in his treatise on 
illustrious ruins, and a great number of travellers, have 
described this singular lake. Maundrel, Volney, Po- 
cocke, Shaw, and other men of eminence, have com- 
municated to the public the result of their observations. 

Alexander Trallianus mentions an heathen form of 
exorcism, that confirms the scripture representation of 
the calamity which overtook Lot's wife. It runs 
thus — "In the name of God, who turned Lot's wife 
into a pillar of salt."* We have yet to examine 

* Uodd. Lect. part, VI. Prop. cix. Demon. 7. page 294, quarto edition. 
Consult Gi'ot. deVerit. Sect. xiv. in not. See also, for the whole of these 
guolations, note 3, of this Lecture, at the end of the volume. 



157 

in. THE EVIDENCES REMAINING ON THE SPOT. 

We remark, 

1. The appearance of the lake, and of the 
surrounding country, has been very similar in 
EVERY AGE. It has Carried the same mournful vesti- 
ges of destruction. Not only do the respective testi- 
monies of ancient writers agree with each other, but 
the several subsequent representations of this fact, giv- 
en in the Bible, accord entirely with the Mosaic his- 
tory: a decisive proof tljat the spot has carried the same 
features of ruin from the first; and a pleasing evidence 
that the sacred writings preserve the most perfect har- 
mony with themselves. A selection of a few passa- 
ges, written at various and distinct periods, will exhibit 
the appearances of these desolated cities, as they pre- 
sented themselves to the different writers; and will 
furnish a coincidence and concord which truth alone 
can produce. It is worthy consideration, that, in these 
several passages, appeals are made to this fact as an 
event well known, and a subject on which the world 
were, at that time, able to obtain ample satisfaction, by 
visiting, and considering, the spot itself. Moses refers 
the Israelites of his day, to the appearance which these 
wasted plains then presented, as an image of what 
their own possessions would become if they disobeyed 
the commands of God. He threatens — "The genera- 
tion to come of your children that shall rise up after 
you, and the stranger that shall come from a far land, 
shall say, when they see the plagues of that land, and 
the sicknesses which the Lord hath laid upon it; and 
that the whole land thereof is brimstone, and salt^and 
burning, that it is not sown, nor beareth, nor any 
grass groweth therein, like the overthrow of 
SoDOM, AND Gomorrah, Admah, and Zeboim, 



158 

WHICH THE Lord overthrew in his anger, and 
" in his wrath: even all the nations shall say, Where- 
fore hath the Lord done thus unto this land? what 
tneaneth the heat of this great anger? Then men shall 
say, Because they have forsaken the covenant of the 
Lord God of their fathers; which he made with 
them when he brought them forth out of the land of 
Egypt."* When Babylon is threatened, another ap- 
peal is made to this event, as to a fact well known, 
and indisputably authenticated. Isaiah proclaims her 
fall, and this is her awful sentence: '^Babylon, the glory 
of kingdoms, the beauty of the Chaldees' excellency, 
shall be as when God overthrew Sodom and 
Gomorrah. It shall never be inhabited, neither shall 
it be dwelt in from generation to generation: neither 
shall the Arabian pitch tent there, neither shall the 
shepherds make their fold there."t Jeremiah beheld 
the same lace of thiiigs when he made these ruins pre- 
figure the downfall of Edom. '^Edom shall be a des- 
olation: every one thatgoeth by it shall be astonished, 
and shall hiss at all the plagues thereof. As in the 
overthrow of Sodom and Gomorrah, and the 
neighboring cities thereof, saith the Lord, no man 
shall abide there, neither shall the son of man dwell 
in it.^^l Jesus, who is Truth itself, appeals to the 
same desolation, and to all its circumstances, as an 
image of his own visitation of the Jewish nation. 
^'As it was in the days of Lot; they did eat, they 
drank, they bought, they sold, they planted, they 
builded; but the same day that Lot went out of Sod- 
om, it rained fire and brimstone from heaven, 
and destroyed them all. Even thus shall it be in the 

* Deut. xxix, 22—25. f Is. xiii, 19, 20. ^ Jer. xlix, 17, 18, L. 40. 



159 

day when the Son of man is revealed. In that day, 
he which shall be upon the house top,* and his stuff 
in the house, let him not come down to iake it away: 
and he that is in the field, let him likewise not return 
back. Remember Lot's wife!" The apostle Peter, 
in the passage read at the commencement of this Lec- 
ture, admits this fact jnto the catalogue of divine judg- 
ments against iniquity; and represents the offended and 
insulted Deity, ^'•Turning the cities of Sodom and 
Gomorrah iinto ashes, condemning them with an 
overthrow, and making them an ensample unto those 
that after should live ungodly." While the writers of 
the scriptures thus strengthen one another, they evince 
that the same characteristic ruin, has through all ages, 
overspread the same country. We observe 

2. There remain correspondent features of 
DESOLATION ON THE SPOT TO THIS DAY, It is readily 
admitted, that travellers who visit the country in ques- 
tion are liable to 'be deceived; and that in many instan- 
ces the inhabitants of the surrounding regions have 
imposed upon them. Josephus has asserted that the 
pillar of salt was to be seen in his days, and that he 
actually saw it. It is disputable, how far this testimo- 
ny may be received; not that we bring the charge of 
wilful misrepresentation against him, but that it is 
probable he was himself deceived. The same credu- 
lity which led him to admit the account of a sabbati- 
cal river, would easily induce him, visiting the lake, 
as he did, with a mind prepossessed in favor of some 
such monument of antiquity remaining, to mistake 
some rude, mishapen rock, for a crumbling fragment 
of the pillar of which Moses speaks. Nevertheless, 

, • These houses had flat roofs, and an ascent to them on the ouls|de: of 
course a person atlhe top wovild descend without entering- the house- 
t Luke xvii, 28 — 32. 



160 

we think that the general features of the country, and 
particularly the lake, are standing memorials of this 
awful fact. Some indeed have denied that the cities 
stood upon this spot. But it must be admitted that 
the universal appearance of the land sanctions the 
common opinion, that here judgment was executed 
against the unrighteous inhabitants of Sodom. The 
description of the face of that unhappy country, given 
in the passages which we have quoted from the scrip- 
tures, and transcribed from ancient historians, accords 
well with the wnol«! aspect of the vicinity of the Dead 
Sea. The country is stripped of herbage; the lake, 
and the soil, are salt and bituminous; and vegetable 
life seems extinct on all its borders It would be diffi- 
cult to fix upon any other spot in the known world, 
to which the principal features of the narrativ^e would 
apply. It is to be supposed, from the uniform lan- 
guage of the Bible, that the destruction of these cities 
was to be a lasting monument of divine displeasure 
against their wickedness: consequently that strong 
vestiges of their desolation should remain through ev- 
ery age. It is certain that all the ancient historians 
who have adverted at all to this singularly awful dis- 
play of divine justice, have also fixed upon this place, 
as the theatre on which it was exhibited. It is no less 
remarkable, that all who have described this lake, and 
its vicinity, have connected with it a tradition, more 
or less explicit, respecting the destruction of the cities 
of the plain; and some of them were men to whom it 
is scarcely probable, that the writings of Moses were 
accessible; and who must therefore have -received the 
knowledge of the event through some other channel. 
May we not also reasonably suppc se that son e chan- 
ges have been effected by time, which have considera' 



161 

bly altered the aspect, and even the properties of the 
waters, since the ancient writers, whom we have quot- 
ed, visited this land of barren solitude? Time, which 
alters the whole globe, and overturns empires, would 
not spare the Dead Sea, and its deserted, naked shores! 
Jordan perpetually rolls his tide to this gulf: streams 
of fresh water are continually pouring into it: the 
Arabs diminish its salt, by draining its water into 
large pits near the lake, leaving it to be crystallized by 
the sun; and its bitumen is gathered by the same peo- 
ple, whose ingenuity applies it to many purposes, and 
who convert it into an article of commerce- We still 
think, that the spot manifests marked features of deso- 
lation at this hour; and the lake is said to be about 
thirty miles long, and ten miles broad. 

Before this subject is entirely dismissed, permit us 
to make two remarks, which appear to arise out of it. 

1. Judgments delayed will yet eventually 
BE EXECUTED. To other sins, the ungodly add that 
of presumption. Because serenity reigns over the face 
of the heavens, they apprehend no evil — they conclude 
that the tempest will never rise. When the cloud ap- 
pears "like a man's hand," they flatter themselves that 
it will extend no farther. When you warn them of 
their danger, and foretel their approaching ruin, they 
regard you as "one that mocketh." Even when the 
heavens are overspread with blackness, and the thun- 
der of indignation begins to roll, they imagine that the 
storm will spend itself, and that the gloom will pass 
away. But the day will arrive when the Savior shall 
appear "to be admired in them that believe," and to 
return on the head of his adversaries, the evil which 
they have devised against his dignity; and that day 
21 



162 

shall ''burn as an oven."* In vain shall the unright- 
eous then cry for help, and seek a refuge from the 
wrath of their judge. In vain shall they turn to the 
east, the west, the north, or the south; every where 
the sword of justice meets their eye — every where the 
tribunal of God rises before their sight — every where 
the clangor of the last trumpet assails their ears — 
and the grave itself forms no shelter from the gaze of 
Omnipotence! In vain shall they call upon the rocks 
to fall on them, and the mountains to cover them: the 
earth and the heavens shall flee from the face of "Him 
that sitteth upon the throne." "Now is the accepted 
time: behold, now is the day of salvation!" 

2. Security in every situation, belongs to 
THE FRIENDS OF GoD. You havc Seen INoah floating 
securely on the bosom of a destroying flood, while the 
whole world perished. You have beheld Lot safely 
conducted out of Sodom, when the inhabitants of the 
plain, and the perverse scoffers of his own family, 
were consumed. What is the language of this dread- 
ful event to the respective classes of mankind? To the 
"ungodly" it is saying — ^'Behold, ye despisers, and 
wonder, and perish!" To you, who cast your eyes 
over these desolated plains, it cries — ^'Escape for your 
life" — flee to a refuge more secure than the mountain 
— and hide under the shadow of the cross! But what 
is its testimony respecting the people of God? "They 
shall not be afraid for the terror by night: nor for the 
arrow that flieth by day: nor for the pestilence that 
walketh in darkness: nor for the destruction that wast- 
eth at noonday. A thousand shall fall at their side, 
and ten thousand at their right hand: but it shall not 

* See note 4, of this Lecture, at the end of the volume. 



163 

come nigh them! Only with their eyes shall they be- 
hold, and see the reward of the wicked." The last 
storm which shall arise to blot out the sun, to extin- 
guish the stars, to rend the sepulchre, and to raise the 
dead, shall waft them to an everlasting kingdom. 
They shall meet the Lord in the air: they shall be 
changed into his image: they shall appear with him iu 
glory. 

O Christian, death is advancing to conduct thee 
home, to terminate thine afflictions, and to hide thee 
for ever from the storms of life! Even now the mo- 
ment arrives! Hark — the trampling of the horses at 
the door — and the "chariot of fire" waits to bear thee 
to heaven! 



LECTURE VL 

THE HISTORY OF JOSEPH. 
GENESIS XLIX, 22 — 26. 

Joseph is a fruitful bough, even afruiiful bough by a 
well, whose branches run over the wall. The arch- 
ers have sorely grieved him, and shot at him, and 
hated himi But his bow abode in strength, and the 
arms of his hands were made strong by the hands 
of the mighty God of Jacob: (from thence is the 
Shepherd Jhe stone of Israel:) Even by the God of 
thy father, who shall help thee; and by the Almigh- 
ty, who shall bless thee with the blessings of heav- 
en above, blessings of the deep that lieth under, 
blessings of the breasts and of the womb: The bles- 
sings of thy father have prevailed above the bles- 
sings of thy progenitors, unto the utmost bound of 
the everlasting hills; they shall be on the head of 
Joseph, and on the crown of the head of him that 
was separate from his brethren. 

ACTS VII, 9 — 16. 
And the patriarchs, moved with envy, sold Joseph 
into Egypt: but God was with him, and delivered 
him out of all his affiictions, and gave him favor 
and wisdom in the sig hi of Pharaoh, king of Egypt; 
and he made him governor over Egypt, and all his 
house. Now there came a dearth over all the land 
of Egypt and Canaan, and great affliction: and 
our fathers found no sustenance. But when Jacob 
heared that there was corn in Egypt, he sent out 



165 

Qur fathers first. And at the second time Joseph 
was made known to his brethren; and Joseph^^ 
kindred was made known unto Pharaoh. Then 
sent Joseph, and called his father Jacob to him, and 
all his kindred, threescore and fifteen souls. So 
Jacob went down into Egypt, and died, he, and our 
fathers, and were carried over into Sychem, and 
laid in the sepidchre that Abraham bought for a 
sum of money of the sons of Emmor, the father of' 
Sychem. 

TO enter at large into the beautiful history that con- 
nects the preceding Lecture with the subject which we 
are about to propose for consideration, is not practica- 
ble; we must therefore imitate travellers in a foreign 
country, whose limited time will not permit them to 
pass through the land in the length and the breadth of 
it — we must inquire what things are most worthy our 
regard, and to them bend our attention. There are 
two events previous to the history of Joseph, which 
require us to pause, and to indulge the common feel- 
ings of nature, and which cannot fail to impress, be- 
cause they speak at once to the heart. It is impossible 
to pass through Canaan without turning aside to the land 
of Moriah, and contemplating the sacred mountain on 
which a patriarch's faith triumphed over a father's 
feelings. According to the promise of God, Isaac was 
born when Abraham was an hundred years old. He 
had seen his son preserved from the perils of infancy. 
His mother had gazed with unspeakable pleasure up- 
on her child — the son of her vows, who was now fast 
pressing towards manhood. The parents of this ami- 
able youth were looking forwards to a peaceful dismis- 
sion from the toils of life, and to the happy tcrmina- 



165 

tion of a tranquil old age. Abraham "planted a grove 
in Beersheba," and rested under its shadow. This 
quiet retreat, alas, is not impervious to sorrow! This 
delightful scenery resembles the stillness of the air 
which usually precedes a tempest — it bodes approach- 
ing trial. "And it came to pass after these things, that 
God did tempt Abraham, and said unto him^ — ^Take 
now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, 
and get thee into the land of Moriah: and offer him 
there for a burnt-offering upon one of the mountains 
which I shall tell thee of." — What a command was 
this! To stain his hand with the blood of a lamb 
which he had fed, would be a task to a feeling mind: 
but the requisition is for a "Son." To select one from 
a numerous family, would be a cruel effort. Let the 
mother look round upon her children, when they are 
assembled before her like a flock, and say, which she 
could spare from among them? But the demand is> 
"take thine only son" — in whom the life of both par- 
ents is bound up. To part with an only child for a 
season, opens the fountain of a mother's tears, and 
adds to the grey hairs of his father. To lose him by 
death, is to cause them to go bitterly in the anguish of 
their soul all their days. What was it, then, to offer 
an only son as a sacrifice, and to be himself the priest 
who should plunge the knife into his bosom? But he 
obeys — obeys without a murmur! He rises early in 
the morning to immolate his child, and to offer, on the 
altar of God, all that he held most dear in this world. 
On the third day, the destined mountain marks its eU 
evation along the line of the horizon, and meets the 
eye of the afflicted parent. The servants are not per- 
mitted to witness the awful scene, the solemnity of 
which they might disturb by lamentations — or the ex- 



167 

ecution of which they might prevent by force — or, 
wanting their master's faith, might draw from it infer- 
ences unfavorable to religion. At this moment, to 
awaken in his bosom extreme torture, ^'Isaac spake 
unto Abraham his father and said, My father: and he 
said, here am I, my son. And he said behold the fire 
and the wood: but where is a lamb for a burnt offer- 
ing? And Abraham said, My son, God shall provide 
himself a lamb for a burnt offering: so they went 
both of them together." — But we will no longer at- 
tempt to scent the violet, and to paint the rainbow. 
We must draw a veil over the scene: for who can en- 
ter into a father's anguish as he raised his hand against 
his child? and who shall be bold enough to attempt 
a description of his rapture, when heaven, which had 
put his faith to so severe a trial, commanded him to 
forbear, and indeed provided itself a victim? 

Before we enter upon the immediate subject of thi^ 
evening's discussion, humanity requires us to drop a 
tear, also, over the grave of the once lovely Sarah, who 
"died in ir jath-arba."T welve years after the trial of 
his faith, this heavy stroke of calamity fell upon him; 
"and Abraham came to mourn for Sarah, and to weep 
for her." — Let not the unfeeling, and the gay, break 
in upon the sacred privacy of domestic sorrow! It is 
not the semblance of grief, which spreads a cloud over 
the forehead of yonder venerable patriarch: real and 
unaffected anguish causes those tears to flow. She had 
been long the companion of his life — she had shared 
his joys and sorrows — she had sojournedin tents with 
him, a stranger in a strange land — she had regarded 
him with fondness up to her hundred and twenty-sev- 
enth year. Her communion and friendship had 
sweetened his distresses, and lightened his labors. The 



168 

dissolving of this long connexion was loosening the fibres 
which entwined about his heart; and while he exhibit- 
ed the resignation of a saint, he felt as a man. Before 
•^the cave of the field of Machpelah" closes its mouth 
for ever upon the precious dust, let the young and the 
beautiful come, and look, for the last time, upon the 
person whose loveliness had kindled desire in every 
bosom, and had more than once ensnared her husband. 
Let them gaze upon the dishonor of that, which even 
time had respected, and age had spared. Let them 
learn a lesson of humility, while they behold the tri- 
umphs of death, and hear a husband entreating "a 
possession of a burying place, that he may bury his 
dead out of his sight," and hide that form from his 
eyes, which he had never before beheld but with rap- 
turous delight! 

We pass over the events which occupied the few 
remaining years of the life of Abraham, and the inter- 
esting account of the marriage of Isaac. We leave 
his two sons, to bury in the grave of their father their 
mutual animosities; and we commit the dust of that 
patriarch in silence, to rest by the side of his beloved 
Sarah, till the morning of the resurrection. We pass 
over the life of Isaac, whose disposition, according 
with the kind dispensations of Providence, led him to 
prefer the tranquillity of domestic life, to the noise of 
state, and to the applause of fame; and who was "a 
plain man, dwelling in tents." In the bosom of his 
family, old age stole upon him, and he heard the voice 
of years calling him to rest with his father Abraham. 
The fraud of Jacob, and the sanguinary disposition of 
Esau, must alike be overlooked; nor can we pause to 
comment upon that, which might furnish so much in- 
struction — the sad consequences of the deception 



169 

which he practised upon his father. Sin necessarily 
brings with it its own punishment; and it made even 
this tavored child an alien from his father's house, and 
worse than a servant in the family of an avaricious, un^ 
feeling, unprincipled relation. His mother, whose par- 
tiality to him projected and executed the plan for which 
they both suffered so much in the event, advised him 
to flee into Mesopotamia, and to "tarry for a few 
days with his uncle Laban, till his brother's fury should 
turn away." Alas! more than twenty years elapsed, 
while he was a sojourner at Padan-aram; and when 
he returned to the tent of his father, the maternal anx- 
ieties and sorrows of Rebekah, were buried with her, 
deep and silent, in the dust of death! We must drop 
these instructive records, and meet Jacob restored to 
his father, just in time to close his eyes: and regarding 
him henceforward but as the father of Joseph, we 
must bring forwards so much cf his history only, as is 
interwoven with the life and trials of his beloved son. 
Rachel had said "Give me children, or else I die!" 
How little do we know when our petitions are profitable 
to us, and when they will prove injurious, if answered 
in our own way! Not through the rejection, but in 
the fulfilment, of her desire — Rachel dies! That pillar, 
which solicits, the eye of the traveller in the way to 
Ephrath, tells a mournful story. It says, '^that the 
hand of affection elevated it, as a memorial of depart- 
ed joys, to point out the spot where a husband lost 
the delight of his eyes, taken away at a stroke: that a 
mother was slain upon her bed by the accomplish- 
ment of her wish: that the cup of anticipated pleasure 
was dashed from her pale lips before she tasted its 
sweetness; and that the man child, so long desired as 

the summit of her earthly ambition, was named, as 

22 



170 

her soul was in departing, Benoni!" This is its sad 
inscription — and this is the grave of the mother of 
Joseph! 

Introduced under these circumstances, how inter- 
esting he appears to every feeling mind! A child rob- 
bed of his mother, excites universal commisseration, 
and commands affection from every bosom. We 
look forwards with anxiety to every future period of 
his life; and our prayers, and our hopes, attend every 
step of his journey. We mingle our tears wjth his, 
on the grav^e of her, whose maternal heart has ceased 
to beat: for we feel that he is bereaved of the friend 
and guide of his youth! His father would, but cannot, 
supply her loss. In vain the whole circle of his friend- 
ships blend their efforts to alleviate his sorrows, and to 
fill the place occupied by departed worth: a mother 
must be missed every moment, by a child who has 
ever known, and rightly valued one, when she sleeps 
in the grave. No hand feels so soft as her's — no voice 
sounds so sweet — no smile is so pleasant! Never shall 
he find again, in this wide wilderness, such sympathy, 
such fondness, such fidelity, such tenderness, as he ex- 
perienced from his mother! The whole world are mov- 
ed with compassion for that motherless child: but the 
whole world cannot supply her place to him! — And to 
interest your feelings, you are first made acquainted 
with Joseph, at a period when he had lost the smile, 
and the superintendance, of his mother! 

The history of his life opens upon us, also, when 
he was of an age to command affection, and to excite 
solicitude. "Joseph, being seventeen years old, was 
feeding the flock with his brethren." A youth of sev- 
enteen is placed in delicate, and dangerous, circumstan- 
ees: he feels new passions and desires: he is assailed by 



171 

iicw scenes and temptations; he is entering the niosi 
perilous path of hfe, with an immature judgmei;t, a 
vivid and deceptive imagination, a mind inexperieiiced 
and impressible; and his whole life will be deeply af- 
fected by the habits which he forms, and the princi- 
ples which he assumes, at this early period. He, who 
has weathered the storms, and experienced the wiles 
of life, feels much solicitude for the unsuspicious youth 
in taking this fust step, which may, perhaps, for ever 
afterw^ards, decide his character. The selection of his 
society is an important concern: he wdll be moulded 
into their image, and will be deeply influenced by their 
example. Joseph associated with his brethren; and it 
is fit, it is desirable, that "brethren should dwell togeth- 
er in unity;" but experience teaches, that brethren are 
not always the most suitable companions for each 
other: too much is frequently expected on both sides, 
of compliance, submission, or attention, and the bonds 
of peace are broken asunder. Something like this, 
appears to have been the case in the family of Jacob: 
for ^'the lad was with the sons of Bilbah, and with 
the sons of Zilpah, his father's wives: and Joseph 
brought unto his father their evil report." In this one 
instance, he does not appear in the most amiable light: 
for, in every point of view, a talebearer is an odious^ 
and a dangerous person, 

"Now Israel loved Joseph more thah all his chiU 
dren, because he w^as the son of his old age: and he 
made him a coat of many colors." Here lies the se- 
cret spring of all the subsequent afflictions, both of the 
parent, and of the child! Gould ^^ny thing excuse pa- 
rental partiality, the reasons alleged would do it: but 
it is not to be excused; and he, who would keep his 
, best beloved safely, must not make it known thai \m 



^ 172 

is the best beloved: for it is a piece of injustice, which 
nature, in the bosom of a brother, will never pardon. 
And the fond father must publish his weakness, by 
bestowing a mark of superior affection upon his darl- 
ing boy, which would always meet the eye of his 
brethren, and never could be seen without exciting the 
worst of passions! Ah, Jacob! what are all the suffer- 
ings of thy younger life forgotten? Did not parentaM 
partiality drive thee from the shadow of a father's tent, 
and the embraces of a mother's arms, to want and to 
servitude? Yet all the afflictions which he endured in 
the service of Laban, and all that he apprehended from 
the murderous sword of Esau: all that he feared, and 
all that he felt; had not guarded his heart against the 
very weakness which had caused all his troubles. The 
result was, what might have been expected — "When 
his brethren saw that his father loved him moie than 
all his brethren, they hated him, and could not speak 
peaceably unto him." When a parent feels, and dis- 
covers, partiality to any one child above another, he 
himself is the cause of all the evil that shall arise, to 
wound his own peace, to render the object of his affec- 
tion unamiable, to burst asunder the bonds of fraternal 
unity, to destroy domestic harmony, and to promote 
discord, strife, envy, and "every evil work." 

God — ''who speaketh once, yea, twice, yet man 
perceiveth it not;" who, ''in a dream, in a vision of the 
night, when deep sleep falieth upon men, in slumber- 
ingsupon the bed, openeth their ears, and sealeth their 
instruction" — foretold to Joseph, in two separate, yet 
similar dreams, his future greatness. Before the canon 
of scripture was completed, divine designs were made 
known in some more immediate channels; and such 
methods of communication, as those mentioned in this 



173 

book, were frequent, before a written revelation was 
given, because they were necessary. 

With more of honest simplicity, and of childish ex- 
ultation, than of wisdom, and of prudence, he related 
these dreams; and the rancor, which already corroded 
fraternal affection, was increased in the bosom of his 
envious brethren. They fed their flocks at a distance 
from home, and it is probable had been absent seme days, 
when the affectionate heart of Jacob yearned to know 
of their welfare. He resolved to send Joseph, to bear to 
them a parent's inquiries, and a parent's blessi ng. He could 
not but have seen their smothered dislike to this amiable 
youth: he had surely heard their half suppressed mur- 
murings: and, no doubt, he marked them with fear and 
concern. It is not impossible that he reflected upon 
himself, for having, by his conduct, excited the ferment, 
which he was now anxious to allay; and, perhaps, he 
said in his heart — *By sending my child to inquire af- 
ter their welfare, and making him the servant of their 
convenience, I shall wipe away their evil impressions 
against him, and convince them of my regard for 
them,'' Little did he know the extent of the mischief 
which his partiality had effected; and as little did he 
appear to understand that "a brother offended is hard- 
er to be won than a strong city!" 

Behold, this lad in whom all his father's affections 
centre, setting out from the vale of Hebron! Already 
have the trembling lips of Jacob pronounced, "God be 
gracious to thee, my son!" — and now his aged eyes 
are following him in his way to Shechem. Did no 
presentiment of evil shake his heart with unusual fears, 
when his faltering tongue, said, "farewell?" Yonder 
youth, lightly treading the ground, and gaily pursuing 
the path which led him from his father's tent for ever, 



174 

and from his father's presence for twenty three years ap- 
prehends no approaching ill And although his enemies 
are cruel as death, there is One above, who shall de- 
liver him from all their malice. 

Wandering from place to place, his weary feet draw 
nigh to Dothan; and lo, those whom he seeks are there, 
watching his approach. Did not his heart leap for 
joy, when he saw, once more, faces which he knew, 
and brethren whom he loved? With sentiments far dif- 
ferent do they gaze upon the lively hope of their fath- 
er's old age! '"^And when they saw him afar off, eVen 
before became near unto them, they conspired against 
him to slay him." Ungrateful, and unnatural, that 
they were! I'hey could see a parent's failings — but 
could not recognize his kindness! In the person of that 
beautiful jouth. thej only saw the favorite of their 
fatlier: envy had so blinded their eyes, that they did 
not discover in him, a brother — '*bone of their bone, 
and flesh of their flesh." 

How does one vice lead the way to another! The 
man who cherishes one evil passion cannot say where 
it will end! He, who begins a course of iniquity, can- 
not draw the line, and say, '-Thus far will I go, but no 
further!" The brethren of Joseph first admitted envy 
into their bosoms. After lying long, and being cher- 
ished there, it generated the thought of bloodshed; and 
the minds that entertained without pity the idea of 
murder, easily contrived a lie to impose upon their 
abused father. "And they said one to another. Be- 
hold this dreamer coraeth. Come now therefore, and 
let us slay him, and cast him into some pit; and we 
will say, some evil beast hath devoured him: and we 
shuU see what will become of his dreams!" 



175 

Remorseless, and abandoned, as were this band of 
i-uffians (for who can pollute the sacred name of 
brethren by applying it to murderers?) it appears that 
amongst them there was one, in whom the flame of 
duty, and affection, was not wholly extinguished. 
Reuben retained in his bosom a small portion of re- 
spect for his venerable and tried parent, of love to his 
innocent brother, of the common feelings of humanity; 
and he counselled them not to kill him, but to deposit 
him in some pit; secretly intending to deliver him 
from their hands, and to restore him to his father. 

There is one thing worthy your attention, and 
which renders their conduct the more cruel and unjust, 
that, whatever might be the partiality of Jacob, Joseph 
does not appear to have assumed any thing in conse- 
quence of it, nor to have carried himself towards his 
brethren with insolence. For aught that appears on 
the sacred page, he seems ever to have treated them 
with the utmost affection, and to have borne his ex- 
altation, in his father's family, with meekness. 

They stripped him of his coat, and having cast him 
into a pit, *'sat down to eat bread!" At this moment, a 
company of Ishmaelites passed by. And Judah said, 
"What projit is it if we slay our brother? come, let us 
sell him to the Ishmaelites!" Who does not blush to 
be a partaker of human nature? — of that nature, 
which could coldly join the purpose of murder with 
satisfying the common cravings of hunger — and not 
only unite the sacred name of brother with the design 
of reducing that brother to the condition of a slave — 
but, to make the frightful picture complete, added to 
all the rest the insatiable claims of avarice, and con* 
suited which method of disposing of their own '-flesh" 
would bring them the most "pr^tr — Surely in thes(^ 



176 

bosoms nothing human was left undestroyed! — To this 
vile proposal the brethren consented (one only being 
absent;) and they sold their brother to the Ishmaelites 
for twenty pieces of silver. The absent brother re- 
turned in an agony from the pit whence the child was 
taken, and lamented his loss, with feelings worthy of 
him, and with a sincerity that will one day shield him 
from the pangs of conscience, which those unrelent- 
ing bosoms shall feel. 

It now remained, that they should complete their 
purpose, and finish their unnatural plan, by deceiving 
their too confiding father, and by persuading him, that 
his beloved child was devoured by some wild beast. 
This was accordingly done. A kid was killed, and 
the fatal pledge of parental affection dyed in blood, 

I see the venerable old man waiting at the door of 
his tent for the return of his beloved boy! He says to 
himself— 'Several hours have elapsed since he depart- 
ed! he might have returned long ere now! The shad- 
ows of the evening are falling fast! He will be bewil- 
dered in his path! Why is he so long in coming^ 
Surely he is safe!' — Now he walks a little way from 
the door of his tent to meet him; and his eyes, far 
more active than his feet, cast many a wishful, anxi- 
ous look, towards Shechem. At length, a company 
is seen at a distance — his eager gaze impatiently exam- 
ines them. 'Yes' — he exclaims with exultation — ^they 
are my sons' — and his heart leaps for joy! As they 
approach, all his fears, and anxieties, return with ten- 
fold weight upon him. In vain he runs over the 
whole company with his eye, in search of the object 
of his affection — Joseph is not with them — and they 
draw near to confirm, too sadly confirm, his worst ap- 
prehensions! The bloodstained robe met tl^e distracted 



177 

sight of the wretched parent. Most probably, hypoc- 
risy shrouded the countenance of these unnatural sons, 
with the borrowed mantle of seeming sorrow. Their 
tale of falsehood is told: the witness of their story ap- 
pears in their hand; and the silence of grief, at length, 
o'ives way to the phrensy of despair. — "It is my son's 

coat" he exclaims 'an evil beast hath devoured him! 

Joseph is without doubt rent in pieces. — And he re- 
fused to be comforted, and said, I will go down into 
the grave to my son mourning!-' 

In the mean time ^'Joseph was brought down to 
Egypt; and Potiphar, an officer of Pharaoh, captain of 
the guard, an Egyptian, bought him of the hands of 
the Ishmaelites." Here the God of his father interfer- 
ed, and was with the little Hebrew captive, and bles- 
sed his master for his sake. So conspicuously was the 
hand of Heaven seen in his house, and in all the con- 
cerns which he committed to his servant that this 
man, although a stranger to God, noticed it, and had 
gratitude enough to reward it; "and he left ail that he 
had in Joseph's hand; and he knew not ought he had, 
save the bread which he did eat.'^ 

The hour of temptation is at hand. Prosperity is 
generally suceeded by trial. When thy day, my young 
friend, is unusually serene, expect a tempest to follpw. 
I shall draw a veil over the scene of trial to which his 
purity was exposed: for it would ill become us to eh- 
force even Joseph's piety, at the expense of a blush 
from the cheek of modesty. All circumstances consid- 
ered, the temptation was violent; and such as none but 
those, who, like Joseph, have the fear of God before 
their eyes, could have withstood. But his arguments 
were strong, and unanswerable: "How can I do this 
great wickedness, and sin against God?'^ This noble 
23 



178 

principle shall not go unrewarded. The righteous de- 
mands of religion may for a season seem to expose us 
to danger: but the eye of God beholds integrity in the 
heart that cleaves to him, and the hand of God will 
recompense it. 

By the tongue of falsehood, his master was pre- 
vailed upon to cast this injured and virtuous youth in- 
to prison. We pause one moment to mark here the 
overruling hand of Heaven. Death was the punish- 
ment intlicted upon those who are guilty of the crime 
of which he was accused; and here is the first interpo- 
sition of God in reward of his innocence. Yet his lot 
was bitter; for he was immured in the king's prison, 
and "the iron entered into his soul." 

Behold him reduced to the lowest ebb of fortune — 
"a stranger in a strange land" — shut out from liberty 
— denied to breathe the pure air of heaven — lying un- 
der the imputation of a detestable crime — and strip- 
ped of every thing, except that which the world's 
wealth cannot purchase, the testimony of a good con- 
science, and the presence and Spirit of God. Yet the 
hand of Deity is secretly working, for him, both with- 
in, and without, the place of his confinement. To 
lighten his bondage, he now finds that favor in the 
eyes of the keeper of the prison, which he formerly 
found with Potiphar; and by the wise decisions of 
Providence, two of the principal servants of Pharaoh 
are sent to the same house of bondage." Long had 
they not been under the same roof with Joseph, before 
the visions of the Almighty visited them; and two 
dreams predicted the restoration of the one to favor, 
and the termination of the hopes and fears of the oth- 
er in death. With affectionate sympathy, Joseph In- 
quired why the cloud of grief sat heavy on their coun- 



179 

tenances; and, upon the relation of their dreams separ- 
ately, he gave to each, with fidelity, their interpreta- 
tion. Upon the conviction that the chief butler was 
about to be restored to his office; he builds a hope that, 
through his instrumentality, he may once more be 
permitted to breathe the air, and see the light of heav- 
en at large; and the sensibility with which he describes 
his former situation, and his present circumstances, 
while he entreats his fellow prisoner to remember him, 
is so natural, and so pathetic, that none but an heart of 
stone can read his melancholy tale without feel- 
ing. "But think on me when it shall be well with 
thee, and shew kindness, I pray thee, unto me; and 
make mention of me unto Pharaoh, and bring 
me out of this house. For indeed I was stolen away 
out of the land of the Hebrews, and here also have I 
done "nothing that they should put me into the dun- 
geon!" 

Every thing took place precisely as he had predict- 
ed: "Yet did not the chief butler remember Joseph: 
but forgat him." Such is the friendship of the world, 
it is founded in interest, and dissolved for convenience. 
It is all promise; and he who relies upon it, will sit 
down in the bitterness of disappointment . to deplore 
his folly. In the hour of affliction, when this man 
was a fellow-prisoner with Joseph, and was comfort- 
ed by him, a transient emotion of affection for his 
"companion in tribulation" stirred in his bosom. Na- 
ture was not dead within him; and humanity plead- 
ed for one so young, so kind, and so injured, as Joseph. 
A string of tenderness was touched in his heart: but, 
alas, its vibrations ceased, and it relapsed into a state 
of rest, so soon as the hand which struck it was with- 
drawn. When he was exalted to power, and restored 



180 

to prosperity, Joseph was left to pine amid ail the hot- 
rors of solitary imprisonment^ and to feci the pang in- 
flicted by neglect. 

At length, when hope deferred made the heait sick, 
the mercy of God interposed; and He, whose power is 
manifested to deliver in the moment of extremity pro- 
cured that enlargement for Joseph, which he had en- 
treated from the friendship of the chief butler in vain. 
Pharaoh had two remarkable dreams, and was troub- 
led: his own distress, on a similar occasion, rose before 
the eyes of the chief butler, and recalled Joseph with 
all his amiable qualities to his memory. "ITien spake 
the chief butier unto Pharaoh, saying, I do remember 
my faults this day. Pharaoh was wrath with his ser- 
vants, and put me in ward in the captain of the guard's 
house, both me and the chief baker. And we dream- 
ed a dream in one night, I and he: we dreamed each 
ma-n according to the interpretation of bis dream. And 
there was there with us a young man, an Hebrew ser- 
vant to the captain of the guard; and we toid him, and 
he interpreted to us our dreams: to each man according 
to his dream he did interpret. And it came to pass, 
as he interpreted to us, so it was: me he restored unto 
mine office, and him he hanged." 

Joseph wasbrough the fore Pharaoh, in consequence of 
thisrepresentation; and having beard the dreams which 
had agitated and perplexed theking, he interpreted them 
as implying seven yearsof plenty and seven years of fam- 
ine God had given to this young man a wisdom more 
precious than all the treasures of Egypt; and Pharaoh 
had himself enough to value and reward it, where he be- 
held it blended with integrity and worth. He stepped at 
once fi;om a prison to a throne; and passed, from the 
menial ofllce of servant to the captain of, the guard, 



181 

to the second chariot, and to the second office in the 
kingdom. At thirty years of age, Pharaoh constitu- 
ted him governor of ail Egypt. All elevations are 
dangerous: but those which are sudden, are of all oth- 
ers the most perilous. Joseph needed more grace, and 
more strength, to preserve him in his newly-acquired 
dignities and honors, than to support him in his afflic- 
tions and persecutions. But he, whose hand conduct- 
ed him to fame and to splendor, preserved his heart, 
that he was not ensnared by them. He, who made 
him patient in tribulation, made him also iaithiul in 
prosperity. 

By the management of this extraordinary young 
man during the years of plenty, enough was laid up in 
store to supply the whole kingdom, so long as the des- 
olating scourge of famine was shaken over Egypt,, 
and the adjacent countries. The history of Joseph,^^ 
and the circumstances of this famine, are mentioned 
by Justin, in his abridgment of the history of Trogus. 
Pompeus: in which, he has blended together, as is 
customary in traditions, that which is true, and that 
which is fabulous. He ascribes the knowledge of fu- 
turity which this favorite of Heaven possessed, to the^ 

exercise of magicial arts but you shall hear him 

speak for himself. The following is his language.^ 
^' Among his brethren, Joseph, in point of age, was the 
youngest; and fearing the superiority of his genius:, 
they surprised, and secretly sold him to foreign mer- 
chants, by whom he w^as carried into Egypt; where he 
exercised magicial arts with singular ability, which 
rendered him much beloved by the king. For he was 
most sagacious in the solution of prodigies; and first 
found out the explanation of dreams; and nothing of 
divine, or of human wisdom, seeoied to be concealed 



182 

from him! So that he foresaw the sterility of the lands, 
many years before it took place; and all Egypt had 
perished by famine, had not the king, by his admoni- 
tion, in a decree, commanded the fruits to be preserved 
many years. And such was his experience, that his 
answers seemed to be given by a God, rather than by 
a man."* — Such is the testimony of this writer. 

The famine extending to the land of Canaan, the 
family of Jacob began to be in want. Poor old man! 
his sorrows thickened upon his head, at a time of life 
when nature demanded repose. Usually, after a 
stormy and rough day, in eventide there is light: but 
the lower his sun descended, the darker was the cloud 
which gathered upon it. A numerous family — age — 
infirmity — want — these are sad companions! What is 
to be done? I'idings have reached him, that there is 
corn in Egypt, and his sons are sent thither: but mind- 
ful of his loss, the patriarch retains Benjamin, the only 
pledge that remained to him of Rachel's affection. 
And now is the divine prescience made manifest! This 
knot of ruffians, whose eye had no pity, are to feel in 
their turn the roughness of unkindness; and they who 
sported with a brother's tears, shall see --what will be- 
come of his dreams!" I am delighted to observe their 
embarrassment, and their fears, while they are treated 
as spies — and Benjamin is required — and Simeon is 
bound before their faces as a pledge of their return 
with their younger brother: and I love to listen to the 
language of their guilty awakened consciences. They 
had slept for twenty years, and it is time they should 
be roused from their slumbers. "And they said one 
to another, We are verily guilty concerning our broth- 

* Justin, lib. xxxvi, cap. 2. 



183 

er, in that we saw the anguish of his soul, when he 
besought us; and we would not hear: therefore islhis^ 
distress corne upon us!" 

They left Egypt for their father's tent with heavy 
hearts, although they were supplied with corn for their 
immediate necessities; and their anxieties were not a 
little increased, when they found that their money was 
restored. But while 1 eiijoy their punishment, I 
grieve to think how heavy all this will fall upon the 
head of Jacob! — As they told their tale, all the sorrows 
of his heart were opened anew: but when they came 
to require Benjamin, he could restrain his emotions 
no longer; and he said — ^*Me have ye bereaved of my 
children: Joseph is not. and Simeon is not, and ye 
will take Benjamin away. All these things are against 
me! My son shall not go down with you: for his 
brother is dead, and he is left alone; if mischief befall 
him by the way in the which ye go,then shall ye bring 
down my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave!" 

But the hand of God is heavy still on the land, and 
the pressure of famine reduces them to the necessity of 
again visiting Egypt. With reluctance Israel parted 
with his youngest son, and Judah laid himself under 
the most solemn engagement to restore him to the 
arms of his father. This engagement was put to a 
severe trial! They were received more kindly than at 
first; and Benjamin was distinguished by the peculiar 
favor of the ruler of Egypt. The time of their de- 
parture came — and they commenced their journey in 
peace — with their number complete — and with the 
fairest hope to reach their home without evil, and to 
gladden the eyes of their father with the sight of Sim- 
eon, whom they had left b-^und, and of Benjamin with 
whom he had so reluctantly parted. 



184 

• Now in order to detain them, Joseph had com 
manded his steward secretly to convey his cup ii)to 
the sack of the youngest; and when they had left the 
city, he issued orders that they should be pursued? 
charged with the theft, and brought back to his pres- 
ence. They w^ere overtaken; and the charge was pre- 
ferred against them. Secure in their innocence, they 
said, ''Wherefore saith my lord these words? God for- 
bid that thy servants should do according to this 
thing! Behold, the money w^hich we found in our 
sacks' mouths, we brought again unto thee out of the 
land of Canaan: how then should we steal out of thy 
lord's house silver or gold? With whomsoever of thy 
servants it be found, both let him die, and we also will 
be my lord's bondmen." After this declaration, what 
was their horror and distraction when "the cup v^as 
found in Benjamin's sack!" 

In unutterable agony they are brought back into 
the presence of Joseph — and offer to become his ser- 
vants! this offer is rejected, on principles of justice, and 
he only is required, in whose sack the cup was found. 
But this was all that they dreaded — and to return 
without him was worse than death! It was then that 
the engagement of Judah presented itself to him in all 
its force; and he pleaded for his brother with all the 
eloquence of distress, and in a language which it would 
be injury to imitate. '"Then Judah came near unto 
him, and said. Oh my lord, let thy servant, I pray thee, 
speak a word in my lord's ears, and let not thine 
anger burn against thy servant: for thou art even as 
Pharaoh. My lord asked his servants, saying. Have 
ye a father, or a brother? And we said unto my lord. 
We have a father, an old man, and a child of his old 
age, a little one: and his brother is dead, and he alone 



185 

Is left of his mother, and his father loVeth him. And 
thou saidst unto thy servants, Bring him down unto 
me, that I may set mine eyes upon him. And 
-we Said unto my lord. The lad cannot leave his 
father, for if he should leave his father, his father 
would die! And thou saidst unto thy servants, Ex- 
cept your youngest brother come down with you, ye 
shall see my face no more. And it oame to pass, 
when we came up unto thy servant my father, we told 
him the words of my lord. And our father said. Go 
again and buy us a little food. And w^e said. We 
cannot go down: if our youngest brother be with uB, 
then will we go down; for we may not see the man's 
face, except our youngest brother be with us. And 
thy servant my father said unto us, Ye know that 
my wife bear me two sons. And the one w^ent out 
from me, and I said, surely he is torn id pieces; and I 
saw him not since. And if ye take this also from me, 
and mischief befall /if?jt, ye shall bring down my gray 
hairs with sorrow' to the grave! Now therefore when 
I come to thy servant my father, and the lad be not 
w^ith Us: seeing that his life is bound up in the lad's 
life; it shall come to pass, when he seeth that the lad is 
not with us, that he will die! and thy servants shall 
bring down the gray hairs of thy servant our father 
with sorrow to the grave! For thy servant became 
surety for the lad unto my father, saying, if I bring 
him not unto thee, then I shall bear the blame to my 
father for ever! Now therefore, I pray thee, let Ihy ser- 
vant abide instead of the lad, a bondman to my lord; 
and let the lad go up with his brethren. For how 
shall I go up to my father, and the lad be not with me? 
lest peradventure I see the evil that shall come on .my 
father!" 

24 



186 

O powerful nature! how irresistible is thy language! 
No rules of composition could produce an effect equal 
to this pathetic appeal to the heart! Eloquence flows 
along in a soft, unruffled stream, which leaves no 
trace on the memory over which it has passed: it 
charms the ear with its selection of language, but dies 
away with the vibrations which the tongue of the ora- 
tor excites in the air: but the voice of nature leads the 
bosom captive; and the heart of Joseph must have 
been adamant had he not felt it! But he did feel it — 
and unable any longer to "refrain himself," he order- 
ed all his servants to leave him, while he made himself 
known to his brethren, and wept aloud! The scene 
which follows is too affecting to delineate! Language 
cannot describe it! The inquiries after his father, the 
gentle forgiveness tendered to his brethren, and his 
commission to Jacob — all — all, transcend human 
power to paint; it was the inspired penman alone who 
could portray them! Here, then, we shall follow the 
modest example of a celebrated painter, who unable to 
delineate the agony of a father hanging over the corpse 
of an only child, hid his face in the robes which veiled 
her lifeless remains. 

Here we might pause, for a few moments, to reflect 
upon the wonders of Providence! Every thing predict- 
ed in the dreams of Joseph was fulfilled, and the very 
steps which his brethren took to prevent it, accomplish- 
ed the whole. But we must bring you to the close of 
this history, and we could make no remarks, which 
are not already comprised in one text of scripture: 
'•Many are the devices of a man's heart; nevertheless, 
the counsel of the Lord, that shall stand!" 

Behold them once again upon their journey: but 
with what different feelings to the day when they left 



187 

Simeon bound behind them, and were required to 
bring Benjamin? Now the way seems annihilated, ^i>o 
swiftly do they pass, and so speedily do they reach the 
tent of their father. With the abruptness of joy, they 
tell a tale, which ought to have been delivered with 
caution, and by degrees: — "Joseph is yet alive! and he 
is governor over all the land of Egypt!" — and it is al- 
most too much for that shattered frame — "And Jacob's 
heart fainted, for he believed them not!" But "when 
he saw the waggons which Joseph had sent to carry 
him — his spirit revived: And Israel said. It is enough! 
Joseph my son is yet alive: I will go and see him be- 
fore I die!'^ 

We will not accompany him along a journey, the 
fatigues of which are lightened, by the anticipated 
pleasure of feasting his eyes once more on the counte- 
nance of his beloved child: but we cannot refrain from 
gratifying you, by permitting you to witness the 
meeting of such a father, and of such a son, after an 
absence of more than twenty years. "And Joseph 
made ready his chariot, and went up to meet Israel his 
fether to Goshen: and presented himself unto him: and 
he fell on his neck, and wept on his neck, a good 
w^hile. And Israel said unto Joseph, Now let me die, 
since I have seen thy face, that thou art yet alive!"* 

When the first emotions of this meeting were over, 
and they had separately time to collect their thoughts, 
and to talk calmly, how much each of them would 
have to relate! Joseph would mark with pain, the rav- 
ages which sorrow and time had made on his father^s 
person, and the wrinkles which they had planted in 
his face! Jacob would delight in retracing the res^m- 

* See note 2, of this Lecture^ at the er.d of t!ie valumg^ 



188 

blance of the features of a man of forty, to those of a 
lad of seventeen; which was the age of Joseph when 
he was snatched from him! And with whafe mutual 
interest, would they listen to the alternate recital of 
their mutual sufferings! 

But it was necessary that Jacob should be introduc- 
ed to Pharaoh, wiiose curiosity was probably greatly 
excited to see the father of Joseph; and who must 
have been much struck with the appearance of the 
venerable patriarch. ''And Pharaoh said unto Jacob, 
How old art thou? And Jacob said unto Pharaoh, 
The days of the years of my pilgrimage are an hun- 
dred and thirty years: few and evil have the days of 
the years of my life been, and have not attained unto 
the days of the years of the life of my fathers in the 
days of their pilgrimage!" — This was not only an *an- 
swer to the king's question, but an epitome of his own 
life! 

About seventeen years of tranquillity succeeded the 
storms, and rendered serene the evening, of the patri- 
arch's life — and "the time drew" near that Israel must 
die!" His family were convened around him: and his 
blessings poured upon the head of Joseph; and of the 
sons of Joseph — and of the brethren of Joseph— with 
parental tenderness, and with prophetic fidelity. "And 
when Jacob had made an end of commanding his 
sons, he gathered up his feet into the bed, and yield- 
ed up the ghost, and was gathered to his people." 

This was a separation more awful and affecting than 
any which had yet taken place; and who does not sym- 
pathize with the pious and affectionate son, as he 
"mourned with a great and very sore lamentation," 
and as he consigned the remains of his father to re- 
pose by the dust of his family? "Thet e they buried 



189 

Abraham and Sarah his wife, there they buried Isaac 
and Rebekah his wife, there he buried |Leah," and in 
the same grave his beloved son deposited his body! 

But to human grief there must be boundaries The 
imperious claims of public, of domestic, and of private 
duty, called upon him to dry his tears — and he obey- 
ed them. He continued to serve Phardoh with fideli- 
ty — to lead up his family in the fear of God — to speak 
kindly to his brethren — and to nourish their little ones. 
And this appears to have been his unremitting employ- 
ment, through the space of fifty- four years: at the 
close of which time, and at the age of an hundred and 
ten, he followed his father down into the grave; and left 
his bones to the charge of his brethren, to be deposited, 
when the providence of God should see fit, by those of 
his deceased family. 

In concluding this interesting and pathetic history, w^e 
arrive at the close of the book of Genesis; the follow- 
ing remarks may not be deemed unnecessary, before 
this portion of the sacred writings is entirely dismissed. 

1. The facts which it relates, are such as it concerns 
us to know, and such as an inspired communication 
must necessarily contain: for they are such, for the 
most part, as could be obtained through no other 
channel than revelation. Who, for instance, but a 
man divinely instructed, could give us an account of 
the creation of all things, and of the destination of 
man? And yet these are the first subjects after which 
we naturally inquire; and we expect satisfaction from 
a volume professedly inspired. 

2. It appears that Moses is the true and sole au- 
thor of this book — and for these several reasons: He is 
allowed to be, on the testimony of the heathens, the 
most ancient lawgiver: the Jews, who are governed 



190 

by these laws, acknowledge no other legislator; and 
when we are informed that Solon gave laws to A- 
thens, and Lycurgus to Lacedasmon, we credit the as- 
sertion, because it is made by the nations themselves, 
through the medium of their historians, and all gener- 
ations have, in succession, admitted their testimony; 
and we have the same evidence in favor of Moses. 
Neither, even admitting a book of this desccription 
could be forged, could it be imposed upon a whole peo- 
ple, without detection, by any impostor of later date 
ihan Moses himself. 

3. The connexion between Genesis, and the suc- 
eeeding books, is such that if this be removed, those 
which remain are unintelligible; and preserving it, ev- 
ery thing is connected and luminous: so that the book 
w'hich we have just finished, must be admitted into the 
canon of scripture, and among the writings of Moses, 
or the whole of the five books expunged; and then have 
you wiped out the first record which Reason expects of 
Revelation — an account of things which necessarily 
extend beyond our own province, and as necessarily 
fall within that of Revelation. Besides which, the har- 
mony of the whole volume is broken: for it proceeds 
throughout upon principles contained in this first book; 
and the authority of the scriptures, from first to last, 
is destroyed: for an appeal is made in every successive 
part of the Bible, to events which are recorded, and to 
facts which arc stated, in Genesis. 

4. The historian writes like a man convinced of the 
truth of that which he advances. He appeals to things 
at that time well known, which are now lost; and it 
is easy to conceive how the several facts which he re- 
lates were transmitted to him. Admitting that he 
could impose upon us, and upon succeeding genera- 
tions, who will be still more removed from the era of 



I 



191 

his facts, and the scene of transactions which he lias 
stated, he could not have imposed upon those with 
whom he lived, and who were themselves by tradition 
well acquainted with the facts which he relates. Should 
any man be disposed, after all that has been said, to 
determine that the whole is a table, before he finally 
draws his conclusions, we intreat him once more to 
read over the history of Joseph, in all its native sim- 
plicity, as recorded in the Bible, and we would be 
satisfied to rest our argument upon this alone: we think 
that no one could for a moment imagine that it is a 
fiction: we would even venture to appeal to skepti- 
cism itself to determine, whether any thing could so 
affect the heart, short of truth and nature. 

5. The difference of style between the book of Gen- 
esis^ and those which succeed, which some have al- 
leged as an evidence that they had not the same au- 
thor, may be accounted for on this principle: that in 
this he records things which took place before he was 
born; in those, he relates the transactions of his own 
day, to which he was an eye-witness. Those who 
have supposed, that if Moses had been the author of 
this part of the Bible, he would not have spoken of 
himself in the third person, appear to us to have pointed 
out one of his principal beauties, and to have confiim- 
ed his general character: for egotism would have ill 
become "the meekest of men" 



— But it is time that we retire to our respective hab" 
itations, for meditation and prayer. 



LECTURE VII. 

INTERMEDIATE LECTURE,, 

A SCRIPTURAL REPRESENTATION OF THE NA- 
TURE AND DESTINATION OF MAN. 

GEN. 11, 7. 
And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the 
ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of 
life; and man became a living souL 

JOB XXXII, 8. 

There is a spirit in man; and the inspiration of the 
Almighty giveth them understanding, 

WHY does my heart beat with pulsations of rapture, 
when my eye measures yonder heavens, or glides 
over hills and vallies along the surface of this beauti- 
ful w^orld? When the dew sparkles upon the ground, 
a kindred tear glitters upon my countenance: but it 
is not the tear of sorrow; it springs from a well of 
unspeakable pleasure w^hich I feel flowing within my 
bosom! Is it merely the softness, or the grandeur, of 
the scenery by which I am surrounded, that affects me? 
No! btit my spirit meets a Parent walking invisibly on 
the globe that he formed, and working manifestly on 
my right hand and on my left. AH these lovely ob- 
jects are the productions of his skill, the result of his 
wisdom, the tokens of his benevolence, the imperfect 
images of his greatness. Every thing demonstrates 
the being and perfections of Deity. I see him em- 
purpling the east before the sun in the morning, and 



193 

wheeling the orb on which I live round upon its axis. 
i behold him throwing the mantle of darkness over me 
in the evening, and kindling the skies into radiance by 
unveiling suns and worlds without number and with- 
out end. I gather a flower, and am revived by its 
fragrance; I see shade melting into shade infinitely 
above any combination of colors, which art can pro- 
duce. To aid the organ of vision, I inspect through the 
microscope, an insect: I see it painted into a thousand 
brilliances, and displaying a thousand beauties, im- 
perceptible to the naked eye. I stand convinced 
that no mortal pencil could delineate the loveliness of 
its form. I perceive a grain of corn peeping above 
the earth. It scarcely rears its light green head 
over the ground. I visit it day after day, and month 
after month. It gradually increases. It is an inch — 
it is a foot in height. Now it assumes a new shape. 
It vegetates afresh. The ear begins to form — to 
expand — to fill. Now it has attained its growth — it 
ripens — it is matured. I have narrowly watched the 
progress of vegetation; and have seen its advancement. 
I beheld every day adding something to its height, and 
to its perfection: but the hand which raised it from "the 
blade to the ear, and to the full corn in the ear," escaped 
my researches. I find a crysalis, and watch the secret 
movements of nature. The insect is shrouded in a liv- 
ing tomb. It begins to stir — it increases in strength — . 
and the butterfly breaks from its confinement. Meeting 
with ten thousand such wonderful productions every 
day — I recognzie in them the great Spirit that ani- 
mates ail created nature, and I am compelled to ac- 
knowledge, '^O Lord our Governor! how excellent ig 
thy name in all the earth; and thou hast set thy glory 
above the heavens." 
25 



194 

I pass on to the animal creation. There I perceive 
other operations, and am overvvhehned with new won- 
ders. The principle on w^hich they act, and which is 
termed instinct, is the gift of God; and it appears to 
differ from the immortal principle in man, in its con- 
finement to a certain inferior standard, and in its di- 
rection to one particular pursuit, adapted to the pecul- 
iar nature and exigences of its possessor. I see the 
timid acquiring courage while they have a maternal 
part to perform; and, forgetting to measure the dispro- 
portion between their own strength and that of their 
antagonist, boldly assaulting those superior animals, 
which designedly or unintentionally, disturb the repose 
of their young. Their instinct enables them to per- 
form those things to which it is particularly adapted, 
with more order and facility than man, with his supe- 
rior understanding, can accomplish; and, with the sim- 
ple tools of nature, they effect that which the complex 
machinery of art cannot produce. All that animate 
creation, from the elephant, and "that great leviathan," 
among animals, to the bee, and the ant, among insects, 
still conduct us to the invisible God; and we say, "The 
earth is full of thy riches; so is this great and wide sea, 
wherein are things creeping innumerable, both small 
and great beasts. O Lord, how manifold are thy 
works! in wisdom hast thou made them all." 

But all these are far inferior to man. He blends ia 
his own person, im nature and properties of all. He 
has the vegetation of the plant — for his limbs expand 
and grow; and he combines with it the properties of 
the animal — for he lives and moves: he possesses also 
their distinguishing principle of action, instinct— for his 
eye closes self instructed against the fly which blindly 
rushes upon it^ on a summer's evening. But he has a 



195 

superior principle; and here is he in truth the Lord 
of Creation. "There is a spirit in man; and the in- 
'spiration of the Almighty giveth him understanding." 
Tiiese words well express the substance of the Lecture 
proposed for this evening: the subject of which is 

A SCRIPTURAL REPRESENTATION OF THE NAXURE AND 
DESTINATION OF MAN. 

While Elihu declares what man is, Moses leads us 
back to the contemplation of what he was; and both 
develope how he came to be what he is. "And the 
Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and 
breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man 
became a living soul." The combined testimonies of 
these scriptures require us to declare the natural 
DIGNITY of man, and to unveil the source of his 
greatness; and from each of these considerations some 
reflections will arise, important to us, as intelligent, 
responsible beings. 

The passages we have selected convey a forcible 
description of 

L THE NATURAL DIGNITY OF MAN. 

"There is a spirit in man" — "Man became a living 
soul." And 

L What is spirit? Every inquiry into the nature, 
power and phenomena of mind — every search into its 
union to matter, its mode of operation, its dependance^ 
or the contrary, upon this exterior vehicle and instru- 
ment of its volitions — every question agitated respect- 
ing its modes of existence, and their several relations 
—is interesting and important. But these inquiries 
s|iould be made with humility, these researches pur- 
sued with caution, these questions agitated with diffi- 



196 

dence, and the several conclusions which we deduce 
in support of any favorite hypothesis, should be in- 
ferred and maintained in a spirit totally opposite to 
dogmatism: since, such is our uncertainty after the 
most laborious investigations, and our darkness in de- 
fiance of the lights which Revelation and philosophy 
have respectively furnished, that little more than con- 
jecture can be obtained after all; and while the pride 
of man on the wing for information, aspires to noth- 
ing less than demonstration, his reason, fatigued 
with her daring flight into regions so unexplored^ 
is compelled, for the most part, to sit down at the 
lowest stage of evidence — probability. 

Our object is not to render this Lecture a mere 
philosophical essay, but simply and seriously to in- 
quire what we are, and to what we are destined. We 
shall not attempt to enter far into that^, which has been 
the mystery of every age: but shall be satisfied with 
piving the position laid down, that '^there is a spirit in 
man." — We shall describe some of the more obvious 
properties of mind, in answering the inquiry, "what is 
spirit?" without laboring to ^^darken counsel by words 
without knowledge," in attempting a solution of thaty 
which in this world can never satisfactorily be solved. 

I feel within me a principle superior to the taberna- 
cle which it inhabits. I mark a similar principle in 
my brethren of mankind: at least i see them affected 
in the same way, and I conclude that they are agitated 
from the same causes, I discern these impressions in 
a child but faintly: they wax stronger and stronger; 
they grow with his growth, strengthen with his 
vigor, and increase with his age. 1 discover impres- 
sions on the animal creation resembling these: but 
they are limited; they act always in the same way; 



197 

fn me, they are illimitable; they assume a thousand 
different shapes; and they are confined to no certain 
standard. I conclude that "there is a spirit in man,'^ 
But this spirit is not to be defined; and is best under- 
stood by the effects that it produces. — Let us therefore 
inquire, 

2. What are its operatfons? On all occasions it 
compares, it combines, it reasons, it judges. Whenever 
a subject is presented, it considers its parts, compares 
its probabilities and the contrary, and forms its decis- 
ions upon the preponderance of the one or the other. 
I see my friend; and the sound of his voice commu- 
nicates joy to my bosom; its tones vibrate upon my 
heart, as well as upon my ear. The blood circulates 
along my veins w^ith greater rapidity. Pleasure di- 
lates all my powers, and the feelings of my heart rush 
to my eyes. I read the same emotions in his coun- 
tenance. I see the same rapture thrilling through his 
frame. It is the mingling of kindred spirits. Some- 
times the communication is made through the medium 
of the eye, and his hand-writing imparts the same 
pleasurable sensations as the tones of his voice: but it 
is still the spirit that speaks within me. He dies — 
and all is changed! The face of nature seems no more 
lovely. The vicissitudes of seasons charm me no lon- 
ger. My bosom is oppressed; and as 1 stand over the 
grave of my departed comforts, my sorrows force 
their way to my eyes, and my tears fall upon the un- 
conscious dust. I wander, in an agony of grief, over 
his deserted habitation. Time, which mellows my af- 
flictions, is unable to remove it altogether, and it melts 
only into the softer shade of melancholy. The sun 
shines, and the seasons return, since his departure as 
before: but they are not the same to me! Wiience is 



Ids 

is this change? or why these emotions and passions at 
all? '^•Theie is a spii'it in man!" 

When I raise my hand, it is in consequence of an 
impulse of my mind; and when I walk out, my will 
determines the road which I shall take: but if there 
were '-no spirit in man," there could be no will to de- 
termine, and when that spirit is removed, the body 
sinks into a state of rest. Year after year, I lose my 
connexions: bat the bond of our union is indissoluble 
even by death. Memory uncovers the grave, 
and the form of those whom I loved, rises per- 
fect before me. I meet them in the room which they 
occupied; and the ground on which they trod becomes 
holy. As the man sinks into the vale of years, tlie 
scenes of his former days recur, in all the vivid colors 
in which they were presented to him in the days of 
his youth. He well recollects the house in which his 
childhood was passed; and the field over which he 
strolled in quest of the wild flower, or in pursuit of the 
insect; and as he reviews these early enjoyments, he 
seems to live them over again. This is another of the 
operations of the mind; and it furnishes another evi- 
dence that "there is a spirit in man." 

The radiance of yonder orb scarcely reaches the 
man. Science discovers that it is a sun, or a planet; 
and imagination pursues the thought. He roves 
through the fields of infinite space, and without quit- 
ting the globe which he inhabits, strays beyond the 
vast confines of the creation, presses into the invisible 
worlds, enters the ^'heaven of heavens," and loses him- 
self before the throne of God. 

He sleeps^ — "but his heart waketh.'" The body re- 
quires repose; but the mind, ever active and awake, 
wanders unfettered through all the labyrinths of fancy. 



199 

Ifc converses with departed spirits: it is recalled only by 
the light of the morning chasing its visions. Whence 
is all this? These operations, from what source do 
they flow? This understanding — these passions — this 
memory — this imagination — these dreams — what is 
the spring of them all? ''There is a spirit in man!" 

But w4ien the body grows cold — and its members 
are stiff and motionless — the spirit is w'ithdrawn. The 
clay tabernacle is reduced to its original dust: but res- 
pecting the mind a new question suggests itself: — 

3. What is its separate state? While our 
dearest friends are dying around us, and we ourselves 
shiver on the brink of eternity, this is no unimportant 
inquiry. We understand, however, so little of spirit in 
its union with matter, that our researches into its state 
of separation must be very confined; and we are ac- 
quainted in so small a measure with its modes of ex- 
istence in this world, that we are not to expect very 
extensive information of those in which it shall exist in 
futurity. We cannot doubt the fact that it can exist 
separate from the body, when we consider some phe- 
nomena in its present state. When the powers of the 
body are suspended in sleep, those of the mind are in 
action; and when the eye is closed, the spirit in dreams, 
sees without the aid of that organ. A separate state 
of existence for the spirit, when it has left the body, is 
not impossible; and it appears to us that the tenor of 
the scriptures is against the soul-sleeping scheme. In 
vain did Paul wish ''to depart," in order to "be with 
Christ," if the soul sleep with the body till the resur- 
rection of the dead; since he would not be nearer the 
accomplishment of his wish in dying, than he was 
while he yet lived: nor, if this hypothesis be true, is he 
nearer to it now\ than he would have been, had he 



200 

lived to the present hour. Neither indeed is he so 
near the attainment of his desire now, as he was dur- 
ing his life: for while he lived he enjoyed divine com- 
munications; but being dead, if the spirit sleep with 
the body , even those communications which he did 
enjoy are cut off— and all intercourse with the Deity 
is suspended in long oblivion till the morning of the 
resurrection. For Jesus says, <'God is not the God 
of the dead, but of the living:" Yet said he to Moses 
— "I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, 
and the God of Jacob," — three hundred years after 
their dust had been consigned to the cave of the field 
of Machpelah. The inference we deduce is, that their 
spirits exist in a separate state, while their bodies sleep 
in the grave. 

This state is revealed in the scriptures as a state of 
happiness or misery; and it is not impossible for the 
spirit to suffer and enjoy ijndependently of the body; 
and by consequence in a stfite separate from it. Ob- 
serve yonder man suffering even to agony. What 
horror is painted on his countenance! What distrac- 
tion looks through his eye! What groans burst from 
bis bosom! From what does his anguish arise? His 
body is in health: no disease wastes him; no illness 
shatters his frame. Ah! it is an inward sorrow 
that devours him — an inward sickness that con- 
sumes him! ^'The arrows of the Almighty are 
within him, the poison whereof drinketh up his spir- 
it." It is conscience that suffers: it is the spirit that is 
sick! — And oh, how sharper than all external calami- 
ty is this disease of the mind! 'The spirit of a man 
will sustain his infirmity: but a wounded spirit — who 
can bear?" He, who can thus afflict the spirit when the 
body is in health, and cause it to suffer independently 
of the body — can fill it with unspeakable anguish in 



201 

a state of separation from the body, and, by a paiity 
of reasoning, cause it to enjoy the most exquisite hap- 
piness. The assertion of the text appears now to be 
established — "there is a spirit in man." A spirit, such 
as we have described, must in the nature of things be 
immortal. And the happiness or misery of this spirit 
in a future state, one might rationally conclude, even 
did not the scriptures positively affirm it, must be 
commensurate with its existence. But what shall be 
the modes of its being in a separate and eternal state, 
as we are so partially acquainted with them in its 
present union with the body, we must die to learn. 
One thing is clear — man is '-a living soul;" and the 
Bible furnishes us with the most rational and valuable 
account of bis natural dignity — and of his future des- 
tination. By this Revelation we are made acquaint- 
ed with 

II. THE SOURCE OF mS GREATNESS. 

*'The Lord God — breathed into his nostiils the 
breath of life:" "the inspiration of the Almighty — giv- 
eth him understanding." The amount of these de- 
clarations, and of the combined testimony of the scrip* 
tures, seems to be comprised in the following arrange- 
ment. 

1. "In mM w^E LIVE, and move, and have our 
BEING." This is the leading sentiment of the Bible, 
and it is strictly reasonable. It was not more imme- 
diately the work of God to create the man at the first^ 
than it is to give life to every individual that is born 
into the world. He organizes the human frame; and 
bestows the adaption of its several parts to the pur- 
poses for which they were designed. A wondrous 
piece of naachinerv, secret in its most important oper. 
2a 



202 

ations, and unsearchable in the finer parts of its con- 
struction! Internally, how complicated! how harmo- 
nious! A thousand springs act upon each other — a 
thousand fibres are necessary to life, which escape the 
eye of scrutiny. To guard these, what care, what 
wisdom, are displayed! In the whole machine, what 
compactness! what strength! Externally, what uni- 
formity! and yet what variety! What grace, what beau- 
ty, what perfection! The spring of all this is life! The 
several parts of the machine we are able to take in 
pieces, and to comprehend their operations: but this 
secret spring — life — ^altogether escapes us. We see 
not the hand that takes it away; we know not the 
moment when it was first given. Watch as narrowly 
as you please, the precise instant of either will remain 
undiscovered. The child comes into the world pos- 
sessing this principle, and announcing its existence, and 
the sensibility connected witii it, by tears! The last 
pulsation of the heart ceases, ere we are aware of the 
spirit's departure. The closest observer of the commu- 
nication and of the cessation of life, can only say, in 
relation to the first, ^'It is there!" — to the last — '*it is 
withdrawn!'' — An invisible hand forms the body, ani- 
mates it with spirit, expands the limbs, fixes the stand- 
ard of stature, and sets bounds to the stream of human 
existence. He confines it now to eighty years, as for- 
merly he extended it to nine centuries. Who will not 
say — ':! will praise thee," O God, "for I am fearfully 
and wonderfully made? — Marvellous are thy works, 
and that my soul knoweth right well. My substance 
was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, and 
curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the eaith. 
Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect, 
and in thy book all my members were written; which 



203 

in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was 
none of them!" By the "inspiration of the Almighty" 
we are what we are, in relation to natural liie, which 
is given, withheld, limited, and extinguished^ at his 
pleasure. 

2. *'The inspiration of the Almighty giveth us 
UNDERSTANDING." The dawn of reason at the first 
is lighted up in the mind of a child by a Divine hand. 
He causes it to brighten, as the limbs enlarge theii' 
size, and acquire vigor. He leads the powers of the 
mind to perfection, and fixes their standard. He makes 
all the difference which we perceive subsisting between 
man and man. He distributes, according to his pleas- 
ure, to some one — to others, ten talents; and he pro- 
portions their responsibility to each respectively. The 
spirit which in this world seems unconfmed, and 
which roves at large, with growing delight, through 
all the works of God; and that which is barely suffi- 
cient to carry its possessor through life, came from the 
same hand; and however different in their capacities, 
are equally immortal. Through a thousand invisible 
channels, the Father of Spirits visits our spirit; and it 
is in vain that w^e desire to trace the modes of his com- 
munications to his creatures. ^'God speaketh once, 
yea twice, yet man perceiveth it not. In a dream, in 
a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, 
in slumberings upon the bed: then he openeth the ears 
of men, and sealeth their instruction." 

He touches the nerve of the brain, and the under- 
standing seems to be lost. The spirit doubtless is per- 
fect: but the instrument upon which she operated, the 
vehicle of her impulses, the fibre upon which she struck, 
is deranged and impaired. We are presented with 
that melancholy union, the stature of a man and the 



2G4 

ignorance of a child! All is mystery. A mind little 
inferior to what we conceive of angelic powers, is de- 
stroyed by the resistless force of its own imagination; 
and reason is subdued by the uncontrolled power of 
fancy. Like a majestic building raised upon too lofty 
a scale, it sinks under its own pressure-^and from the 
Very grandeur of the design becomes an heap of ruins. 
Like a bright meteor, shines the blaze of genius for a 
season; but, from some unknown cause, it is precipi- 
tated from its exalted sphere in a moment, and the ray 
of intellect which illumined the worlj^ — expires. Wc 
deplore in vain the ruins of that beautiful fabric, the 
human mind; and with anguish of spiiit we discern 
the light of the understanding extinguished. But we 
are not ignorant of the hand which quenches it. It is 
the same that kindled it at the first. These are the 
mysterious transactions of the Fountain of Life: "For 
there is a spirit in man, and the inspiration of the Al- 
mighty giveth him understanding." 

3. Spiritual knowledge is the gift of God. 
We too frequently see men of distinguished talents, 
most deplorably ignorant in that knowledge, which of 
itself is able to counterbalance the want of all others; 
and without which, all science is less than nothing. 
We stand astonished, and look upon the man as some- 
thing more than mortal. What admirable powers of 
intellect! What a capacious understanding! What 
greatness of soul! What genius! What acquirements! 
What intelligence! What pity is it the picture is not 
finished 1 But the noble outline w^ants filling up by 
moral worth; and w%anting that, it wants every thing. 
Alas! ''one thino' is needful" — and the lack of that one 
thing, destroys the worth of all! Without this, that 
godlike capacity is degraded: those superior powers 



£05 

are abused. They are mischievous rather than useful. 
They are ruinous to their possessor, and injurious to 
society. They are turned against him who bestow td 
them. They are wasted in wanton profusion; but 
they are followed by a dreadful responsibility. If it 
should please God to kindle a ray of spiritual light in 
that mind, what might not such a man, in the right 
employment of such distinguished talents, perform! 
But in the mean time our position is established — that 
spiritual knowledge is the gift of God. "A man can 
receive nothing except it be given him from above." 
We are naturally ignorant in all spiritual concerns. 
Still worse than this, every power of our mind is di- 
rected against divine knowledge. "This is the con- 
demnation, that light is come into the world, but men 
love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are 
evil." He, who leads the morning stars, and kindled 
the radiance of the sun; He, who "in the beginning," 
said, " 'Let there be light,' and there was light;" He, 
who bestows natural and intellectual life upon the 
man; He it is, who pours spiritual knowledge into the 
mind, and to Him is it ascribed in the scriptures. 
"There is a spirit in man, and the inspiration of the 
Almighty giveth him understanding." 

4. The future existence of the spirit will 
FLOW FROM God. Leaving this world, our prospects 
are unbounded. The word of God draws aside the 
veil, and transports us to the foot of the eternal tiirone. 
The eye of faith numbers the different orders of glori- 
ous spirits which bend before the Deity. First, the 
various ranks of those pure Intelligences, those myste- 
lious Beings, who never sinned, pass before the eye cf 
the mind. These evermore cry, "Holy, holy, holy 
Lord God Almighty"— and hide tb.eir laces before un- 



205 

created Excellence. And these derive their existence, 
and their powers from Him, before whom they do 
homage. Then, the myriads of the Redeemed pass 
along before us, divided into their companies, and pos- 
sessing their respective degrees of glory: but it is "a 
great_ multitude which no man can number." Patri- 
archs, prophets, and apostles, lead the way: the noble 
array of martyrs follows: the general assembly and 
church of the firstborn, the spirits of the just made 
perfect, from Adam to the last spirit that fled from 
this vale of tears, are in this illustrious crowd, each of 
them clothed in righteousness, and bearing the emblem 
of victory in his hand. And these all live upon the 
"Fountain of Life"— all derive their superior intelli- 
gence from .the "Father of Lights." '^The inspiration 
of the Almighty giveth them understanding." We 
have contemplated the natural dignity of man, and un- 
covered the source of his greatness; from all that has 
been said, his destination may be prejudged; and in- 
deed it has been interwoven throughout the texture of 
the whole of this Lecture: we may keep it in view 
also, in setting before you 

III. SOME REFLECTIONS ARISING OUT OF THIS SUBJECT. 

Is there "a spirit in man?" 

1. How HIGH IS ITS destination! It was not de- 
signed to be immured in these walls of flesh for ever. 
The harps of angels invite us to our rest. Departed 
saints attract us forwards. The voice of God himself 
calls us home. It is the combined testimony of 
the scriptures, of reason, of conscience, that this imma- 
terial principle is destined for the enjoyment of God 
for ever. He who buries his expectations here forgets 
his dignity. Like his divine Lord, the Christian pas- 



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ses through this world in the shape of a servant; in the 
world of spirits, he shall appear in all the majesty of 
an heir of glory. Yonder sun shall be extinguished; 
those stars shall fade; the beauties of creation shall be 
blotted t)ut; the trump of God shall announce the 
dissolution of nature; the heavens shall be vvrapped 
together as a scroll; all shall be consumed; all shall be 
destroyed; the whole globe shall be a mass of ruins; 
but at that instant the concealing curtain shall fall; the 
new creation shall burst upon the enraptured sight; 
the redeemed spirit shall be put in possession of its 
everlasting habitation; and the man shall enjoy God 
for ever. Such is his high destination. 

Does ''the inspiration of the Almighty give us un- 
derstanding?" 

2. How OUGHT THE POWERS OF THE SPIRIT TO 

BE DEVOTED TO Him! Shall I deem his service a 
drudgery, who made me what I am? who requires in 
return only that I should fear him, and love him? and 
who in order to induce me to obey his commands, as- 
sumes and exercises the most tender of characters and 
of relations? O, ungrateful that I am! shall I deem the 
gentle requisitions of a father; the claims of an elder 
brother, founded equally injustice and in kindness; the 
expectations of a friend — an hardship? Impossible! 
No — had he demanded the unceasing tribute of my 
spirit; had he marked out every moment of my life; 
as a season of worship; I ought not, even then, to 
have deemed it an hard service! Did he not bestow 
those powers? Has he not a right to do that which he 
will with his own? Does he ask more than he gave? 
Did not Jesus die to save that spirit? Surely his com- 
mandments are not grievous: but ''his yoke is easy, 
and his burden is light." And are there any who live 



208 

day after day without bowing their knee to God? Are 
inhere any who live in the neglect of secret prayer, up- 
on whom he has bestowed an immortal spirit — per- 
haps distinguished talents? How are they to be pitied! 
the voice of joy from nature reproaches them — the 
voice of conscience from within reproaches them — the 
voice of the scriptures reproaches them: for it says— ^ 
and reason seconds its injunctions — "Thou shalt love 
the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy mind, 
with all thy soul, and with all thy strength." 

Is there ''a spirit in man?" 

3. How VAST IS ITS loss! I shudder to paint the 
lightest shades of this horrible picture. To die an en- 
emy to God, is to have all the powers and capacities 
of the mind blotted out — I correct myself — not blotted 
out, but continued, and enlarged, only to increase the 
agony of their miserable possessor. The tortures of 
futurity will be augmented by the bitterness of reflec- 
tion and of self-reproach. The memory will be tena- 
cious of all the scenes of the past life — and strong to 
recall the opportunities which were neglected, the time 
which was wasted, the ordinances which were despis- 
ed, the salvation which was proffered, and which is 
now for ever hid from their eyes! What a dagger to 
the heart is the reflection, ''I have done all this! my own 
hand has pulled down ruin upon my head; my own 
hand has extinguishished the ray of hope for ever: my 
own hand has fixed the eternal bars of this evei-dur- 
ing dungeon!" Is it not enough that now, when the 
spirit is wounded by the arrows of the Almighty, the 
accusations of conscience torture the bosom beyond 
the utmost stretch of thought, but will you tempt the 
worst, and dare the arm of Omnipotent vengeance to 
strike, and ^'to cast body and soul into hell?" Is it not 



209 

enough that the groans from that prison reach our 
ears? and that, through the medium of scripture, their 
language is conveyed to us? while they cry in cease- 
less despair — "Oh! how have we hated instruction, and 
our heart despised reproof; and now we eat of the 
fruit of our own way, and are filled with our own de- 
vices; now he laugheth at our calamity, and mocketh, 
seeing our fear is come as desolation, and our de- 
struction as a whirlwind!" Will not these mournful 
shrieks arrest your attention, and shake your purpose 
ye thoughtless and profane! but will you rush headlong 
to the same ruin? and do you with desperate rashness 
demand to be ''tormented in this flame?" Yet pause 
one moment — are you prepared to endure the worst? 
Have you asked yourselves the question which Isaiah 
puts into the mouth of the sinners and hypocrites in 
Zion, *'Who amongst us shall dwell with devouring 
fire? Who amongst us shall dwell with everlasting burn» 
ings?" Before you risk your spirit for the fleeting 
allurements of time, and sacrifice your eternal interests 
to the gratifications of this transient life, consider how 
vast is its loss! Before you quite make up your minds 
that these things are '^cunningly devised fables," calcu- 
late your damage, should all this prove at length a tre- 
mendous reality! 

Is "there a spirit in man?" 

4. How DILIGENTLY OUGHT IT TO BE CULTIVAT- 

^d\ It is the happiness of man, that he has the power 
of increasing his talents, and enlarging the sphere of 
intellect, by diligence and by application. To the hux 
man spirit no boundaries can be prescribed. Has God 
given thee, O young man, extensive powers? Do not 
diminish them by sloth: do not destroy them by in- 
temperance: do not waste them in wantor) expendl» 
27 



210 

ture: do not direct them to purposes offensive to God, 
injurious to society, and, in the event, destructive to 
thyself. Keep them as the sacred deposit of God. 
Hide not thy talent in a napkin. Bring it forwards 
for the service of religion, of humanity, and of reason. 
It will increase by use; and the approbation of God 
shall be thy reward. * 

Brethren, ^^now are we the sons of God, and it doth 
not yet appear what we shall be; but we know that 
when He, who is our life, shall appear, we shall be 
made like him: for we shall see him as he is, and ap- 
pear with him in glory." The present state of the 
spirit, in its highest perfection of natural and religious 
culture, is nothing to the ''glory that shall be revealed.'^ 
But the time presses on, when bending^ before the 
throne of God, it shall blaze forth, in the full perfec- 
tion of its beauty and immortality. 

Such is the scriptural account of the nature and 
destination of man; and we now make our appeal to 
you, whether it is not rational and animating. It 
sanctions all that experience teaches us respecting the 
natural powers of the mind. It leads us up in grate- 
ful remembrance to him, who bestowed the principle 
of life, at the first, and w ho continues to impart it 
through all successive generations. It enhances its 
value by asserting and proving its immortality. It 
renders the man useful to society, in cherishing the 
love of goodness, and in superinducing hatred to vice, 
by unveiling the future destination of the spirit to eter- 
nal happiness as the free reward of piety, or eternal 
misery as the just judgment of sin; and thus furnishes 
a more powerful guard of virtue, and barrier against 
vice, than all the laws of society could impose and 
preserve. 



211 

He, then, that is an enemy to Revelation, is an enc» 
my to HIMSELF. He that ojDposes religion, opposes h s 
best interests. He is extinguishing, so far as he can 
extinguish, the light which is ser^t to guide him home; 
and to absorb the feeble, inefficient ray of reason and 
of nature. He is refusing the only cup of consolation 
put into, his hand to counteract the bitter draught of 
sorrow. He is rolling a great stone over the mouth 
of his own sepulchre, and sealing it with his own seal, 
and making it as sure as he can in the hope (if anni- 
hilation can be a subject of hope to the human bos- 
om!) that he shall sleep there for ever: but he shall 
find, to his utter dismay, that the angel of the Lord 
can roll away the stone, and that the mandate of heav- 
en will rouse his slumbering dust. He is the enemy 
@f MANKIND. For he is robbing society of the cement 
which holds it together: of the light which has illu- 
mined these latter days: of the source of its intelli- 
gence, of its happiness, of its consolations, of its best 
f)rinciples. And he who is the enemy of man, is the 
enemy of God; for he is the Parent of the universe: 
the Friend of man; he stamped human nature with 
his own image, and he loves it still. 

There is but one principle on which we can account 
for the hatred of the world against revelation; and that 
is — this very revelation assei ted from the first, "the 
carnal mind is enmity against God, it is not subject to 
the law of God, neither indeed can be." And the 
very persecutions it has endured, are evidences of its 
authenticity: the very existence of skepticism, so far as 
it goes, is an unanswerable argument against infidelity 
— because it was foretold and accounted for, by the 
Bible itself, at the VQ,vy moment of its promulgation. 



212 

One should have imagined that the gospel of Jesus, 
could have had no enemies. It breathes only peace. 
It has but one object — to promote the felicity of man- 
kind. It sweetens every connexion of human life. 
It strengthens the cause of philanthropy. The only 
favor it entreats is, that men would love themselves; 
and while it pours a thousand blessings on the present 
transient existence, and lightens all the trials of the 
way, it shews wTetched, erring man, '*the path of life." 
And yet every man's hand is lifted up against it! 
From its birth to the present hour, every age has 
blended all its wisdom and all its force, to crush Chris- 
tianity. Had it required the man to sacrifice "his 
first born for his transgression, the fruit of his body for 
the sin of his soul" — who would have wondered that 
nature should rise up against it? — Yet strange to say — 
the horrible religion of the gentiles, which actually did 
require this unnatural offering, w^as supported, and de- 
fended against Christianity, with vehement obstinacy. 
The rage of man, on the one side, exhausted itself in 
defence of altars on which their children had been im- 
molated; and on the other, was diiected against a re- 
ligion which hastened to overthrow these blood-stain- 
ed altars, and which said, "Suffer little children to come 
unto me,and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom 
of heaven!" — Had it destroyed the peace and existence 
of society: had it scattered war and bloodshed over the 
earth: had it trampled on the dearest rights of human 
tiature-^-why then, some reason might be given for the 
wrath of man against it. But it disseminates "peace 
and good will to man," abroad upon earth, while it 
brings in a revenue of "glory to God." We can take 
its most furious perseci lor by tie hand, when he raves, 
^L4way with it from the earth!" and say, "Why? 



213 

What evil hath it done?" And he shall be unable to 
assign a single reason for his conduct: unable to lay 
one sin to its charge: unable to prove that io any one 
instance it is injurious to society: unable to deny, that 
it has been productive of the most beneficial effects— 
that it has removed all the clouds of heathenism — that 
it has extinguished the fires through which wretched 
parents caused their children to pass, and in which the 
fruit of their body was consumed— that it has given to 
the world a new and perfect code of morality— .that it 
has thrown open the gates of mortality — that it has 
removed the bitterness of death — and that it has estab- 
lished, solely and unaided, the doctrine of the resur- 
rection of the dead: he shall be compelled to admit all 
this, and yet, without a single reason, merely from his 
natural enmity to it, he will continue to despise, to re- 
ject, and to persecute it! Humanity is concerned in the 
progress of this religion: Humanity raises her voice in 
favor of revelation, and entreats, "Rise up, Lord, let 
thine enemies be scattered; and let them that hate thee^ 
flee before thee!" 



LECTURE VOL 

THE SLAVERY AND DELIVERANCE OF ISRAEL l^T 

EGYPT. 

GEN. XV, 13, 14. 
And he said unto Abram, Know of a sitreft/, that thy 
seed shall be a stranger in a land that is not their^s, 
and shall serve them, and they shall offiict them 
Jour hundred years. And also that nation whom 
they shall serve will I judge: and afterward shall 
they come out with great substance. 

Acts vii, 35, 36. 
This Moses whom they refused, saying, Who made 
thee a ruler and a judge? the same did God send 
to be a ruler^ and a deliverer, by the hands of the 
-angel which appeared to him in the bush. He 
brought them out, after that he had shewed won- 
ders and signs in the land of Egypt, and in the 
Red Sea, and in the wilderness forty years. 

THERE is a mournful pleasure in recalling the words, 
and reviewing the feelings, of those who are gone 
before; and whose lot in this world, like our own, was 
mingled in almost equal proportions of good and eviL 
Time has effected changes, by his slow devastations, 
which speak to the heart; and we cannot hear the 
voice of years departed, without feeling our attention 
arrested, and amid the suspension of our employments^ 
giving reverence to the testimony of those, whose wis- 
dom, snatched from that ail destroying hand, remains 



215 

upon record, for oar instruction. We open this vol- 
ume, and are surrounded by scenes now blotted out 
from the face of nature: by actors who have perform- 
ed their parts, and have vanished out of our sight. 
Here we see Babylon rearing her majestic head, in 
awful dignity, over the plains extended on every side. 

We shut the book, and the mighty empire disappears 

''Babylon the great, is fallen! is fallen!'^ Oblivion has 
spread an impenetrable mist over the spot on which 
this queen of the nations stood, and we look in vain for 
some traces of her former greatness. In the Bible wc 
are introduced to Jerusalem in all her glory: We see 
the tabernacle of God lifting its hallowed curtains on 
the summit of Mount Zion. We hear the voice of 
the "sweet singer of Isiael" rising amid the devotions 
of that dispensation, and his words are chanted to the 
harmony of a thousand stringed instruments. We 
withdraw ourxwes from the sacred page, and imagina- 
tion loses her power, the visions wiiich the pleasing 
enchantress painted before us, vanish; and we see the 
shadows flit away, with regret. But all is not ddu- 
sion — the words which we hear — the experience of 
the persons whole lives we study — the precepts w^hich 

were given them, and which still remain upon record 

are engraven upon our hearts in characters never to be 
obliterated. 

Customs change with years. Yet is man in the 
present day, what he was in ages that are passed: on- 
ly he was surrounded by different scenes, he was led 
by different habits. His peculiar situation, his local 
circumstances, exist no longer: but he had the same 
principles common to human nature, the same feel- 
ings, the same necessities, the same expectations. Our 
fathers felt, like ourselves, the pleasur(^s of hope, the 



216 

anguish of disappointment, the pantings of suspense^ 
the throbbings of joy, the pangs of fear. They lived 
uncertain of the future. They trembled as they ap- 
proached the brink of time. The world which they 
now inhabit, and the mysteries of which are now laid 
open to them, was once as secret, and as much an ob- 
ject of the mingled emotions of apprehension and of 
hope, to them as to us. There were moments when 
their faith was not in lively exercise, and when the 
fear of death was as powerfully felt in their bosoms 
as in our own. Then they fled to this word for support, 
and derived from it the sweetest consolation. Yes — 
and we are hastening to be what they are. After a 
few years, we shall join their society. We are float- 
ing down the same stream, over which their vessels 
have already passed: borne along by the same current, 
we sail between the same winding banks, pass through 
the same straits, meet with the same rocks and quick- 
sands, and are agitated by the same tempests: but they 
have safely anchored in the haven, and we are stretch- 
ing all our canvass to make the same point of destina- 
tion, that, with them, we may be sheltered from the 
storm, for ever! We avail ourselves of the directions 
which tliey had left behind them, because in all ages 
"the Author and Finisher of our faith" is the same. 
He will be to future generations, what he was to them, 
what he is to us. When our posterity shall trample 
upon our dust, when our very names shall have per- 
ished from the record of time, when new faces shall 
appear on this wide and busy scene of action, the 
name of God will remain to our children, the same 
as it appears this night to us, the same as it was an- 
nounced to Moses from the bush which burned with 
fire and was not consumed—^*! am that I am!" 



217 

The channels of a man's information are confined 
to the past and to the present. He travels with a mist 
perpetually before his eyes: but when he looks back — 
the road which he has already trodden is clearly dis- 
cernible: no vapor hovers over it: it is visible in all 
its parts, except those very remote portions of it which 
have dwindled into the obscurity of prolonged per- 
spective. The faithful and impartial record of the in- 
spired pages, causes the earliest periods of time to roll 
back for the instruction of these latter days. In a 
moment we feel ourselves transported into the garden 
of Gon, and hear his voice whispering amid the tree^ 
of Paradise in the cool of the day. We accompany 
the patriarch from his country and his father's house: 
w^e traverse with him, conducted by an invisible hand, 
the land, in the "length thereof, and in the breadth 
thereof:" we rest wherever he pitches his tent: we par- 
ticipate his domestic joys and sorrows; and at length we 
follow him to his long home, and see his body deposit- 
ed in the grave, there to slumber "until the times of 
the restitution of all things." We are hurried into 
the camps of the Alexanders and Csesars of the day: 
we visit their tents, and listen to their projects to dis- 
turb the repose of mankind: we perceive these designs 
carried into effect, just so far as the wisdom of Provi- 
dence permits, and no farther: and we see these des- 
troyers of the order and harmony of society, sinking 
one after another into the dust and the silence of death. 
History snatches from the hand of time, all thatisvaU 
uable and useful. By her magic pencil the departed 
visions of ancient days return, and the fathers pass and' 
repass before our eyes, that we may see, and admire^ 
and imitate their excellencies: that we may abhor and 
avoid their vices: that we may pity and escape their 
28 



218 

weaknesses: that our understandings may be enlight- 
ened, our judgments established in the truth, and our 
minds conducted through the lowly and peaceful paths 
of religion to the eternal temple of God. 

And we derive information from the Sources oi pres* 
ent knowledge, and from the teachings of present exipe^ 
rience. Every day adds something to the intellectual 
stature of an intelligent man: every day developes some- 
thing important and interesting. The moment reason 
dawns upon the mind, the man finds himself surround- 
ed by beings occupying the same rank with himself in 
the scale of creation: he feels his destiny and his hap- 
piness inseparably linked with theirs; and he awakes 
to a sense of new duties, involving in them a corres- 
pondent responsibility. He can no longer deem him- 
self an idle spectator of the bustle and activity around 
him. Every day something transpires which affects 
his interests and his peace: or the interest and the peace 
of those whom he loves; and he is drawn from his 
solitude in spite of himself — he is roused into exertion 
in defiance of his preference for inactivity. He is soon 
involved in a thousand perplexities. He calls in the 
assistance of his contemporaries, that he may avail him- 
self of the aid of their observations, in connexion with 
his own, to learn something of the road which they 
are mutually travelling; and that by their combined ex- 
ertions they may more successfully combat, and more 
effectually subdue, the temptations by which they 
are mutually assaulted. We are justified then, my 
friends, in trying every source of information which 
God permits to us — and not only in availing ourselves 
of present experience, but in plundering, as at this time, 
the past of its treasures. 



219 

But we know nothing oi futurity, God has reserv- 
ed to himself the knowledge of that which shall be: and 
he conceals it from the highest orders of his intelligent 
creation. 

Chain'd to his throne a volume liefi. 

With all the fates of men: 
With ev'ry angel's form and size 

Drawn by th' eternal pen. 

His providence unfolds the book, 

And makes his counsels shine; 
Each opening leaf, ami pv'ry stroke. 

Fulfils some deep design. 

Here he exalts neglected worms 

To sceptres and a crown: 
Anon the following page he turns, 

And treads the monarch down. 

Nor Gabriel asks the reason why. 

Nor God the reason gives; 
Nor dares the favorite angel pry 

Between the folded leaves 1* 

We may go back to the creation of the world, but we 
know not what shall be on the morrow. He alone 
knoweth the end from the beginning; and we shall 
have occasion to notice a most decisive evidence of 
this foreknowledge, in the prediction with which we 
commenced this Lecture respecting the subject of the 
present discussion, and which was delivered four hu n 
dred years before the event to which it relates was ac- 
complished. 

The book of Exodus commences with a recital, 
by name, of the eleven patriarchs, who accompanied 
their father into Egypt, God having sent Joseph be- 
fore them, to provide for them, and to nourish their 
little ones. With conciseness characteristic of the sa- 
cred wri tings, Moses sums up the number of the family 

• Dr. V/atts' Lyric Poems, b 1, poein 6. 



220 

df Jacob, sweeps off that generation, exhibits the in- 
creasing population of their descendants, and hastens to 
The slavery and deliverance of Israel in 
eGtYPt: which part of his narration is to occupy your 
attention at this time. We shall, as usual, simply de- 
tail the facts as they are recorded by Moses, and cor- 
roborate them by foreign testimonies. Let us 

i. DETAIL THE FACTS AS THEY ARE RECORDED BY 

MOSES. 

In discovering the sources of the slaverj^ and suffer- 
ings of the Israelites, we are naturally led to contem- 
plate the wonderful changes effected by the lapse of 
h few years. Nor shall we find it difficult to persuade 
those, of the truth and fidelity of the sacred historian's 
representations on this point, who have accustomed 
themselves to mark the vicisitudes around them, caused 
by the revolution of a few months, not to say years. 
What changes are effected in one year! V/hen we 
separate, who can say whether we shall see each oth- 
er's faces in the flesh ascain? We meet at the house of 
friendship — we behold the father of a family happy 
and exulting. The bloom of health blushes in the 
cheek of his children. The partner of his life enjoys 
Unusual vivacity. We return — b^it grief spreads her 
shadow over his countenance. In the intermediate 
space of a few v^eeks, the spoiler, death, has robbed 
him of his wife, or of some of his children: or perhaps 
we find the mother a widow, and the children father- 
less. A man who travels alone; the vale of vears, finds 
himself deserted by his contemporaries, and passes 
through the most gloomy part of his v. ay, vvhile the 
evening sun sets upon him, alone. Some have left him 
from mutability of disposition: some are divided from 



221 

him by distance: some have been separated from his 
interests by forming new connexions, some have been 
driven from his embraces by the envenomed tongue of 
calumny: some have gone before him into the land of 
spirits. And thus the sons of Jacob sunk one after 
another into the grave, till Egypt was covered with a 
new generation, mutually strange to each other. 

How much is suspended upon the life of an individ- 
ual! What an object of weakness, what a broken reed, 
is that individual sinking into the arms of death! How 
soon his services are forgotten, and his memory is bu- 
ried with him in his sepulchre! Connected withilife, are 
all the diversified comforts with which the human mind 
has formed any acquaintance. The charities of friend- 
ship, the blessings of society in all its ramifications, the 
felicity of domestic enjoyments, the relations of father 
and child, of husband and wife, of a man and his broth- 
er, the reciprocal duties arising out of these, the con- 
solations immutably connected with them — are all sus- 
pended in this trembling balance — life — are all oblit- 
erated in the instant of its expiration — all vanish, when 
the spirit quits the clay tabernacle! Yonder fragment of 
the human form-»the wreck of man — all that has fal- 
len into the relentless hand of death- — once enjoyed 
the comforts, the magnificence, the pride of power- 
diffused the felicity which he participated — acted and 
moved a prince in the circle of society-- and, a star of 
the first magnitude, irradiated the satellites which re- 
volved around him. To him the young looked up 
for intelligence: his tongue moved only to utter wisdom, 
and his words dropped as the latter rain. When he 
opened his lips every murmur was hushed, and thou- 
sands moved not, held, as it were by enchantment, and 
bound by the magic of bis eloquence. Such he «£cc/6*f 



222 

but all these honors stood inseparably connected with 
life, and with its exhausted lamp, the ray of intelligence 
which illumined the world — expired! Such was Jo- 
seph — but when he died, the light of his brethren was 
quenched, and the staff of his father's house, broken! 

"And Joseph died, and all his brethren, and all that 
generation." Who is not charmed with this impres-^ 
sive mode of describing the revolutions of time? Other 
writers with me, would have dwelt long upon a theme 
so copious, and would have exhausted all their elo- 
quence upon a subject which furnishes such ample 
scope for description. But what prolonged narrative 
could be equally striking with this single verse? Its 
brevity in a moment sets before you the velocity with 
which the stream rolls ages and generations along to 
the illimitable abyss of eternity. There is not a peri- 
od to the sentence till a whole generation is swept 
away! One should imagine that Moses had snatched 
a feather from the wing of time, to record the swift- 
ness of his flight, and the rapidity of his desolations! 

Joseph died— but the God of Abraham lived^lived 
to remember and to accomplish his promise. "And the 
children of Israel were fruitful, and increased abun- 
dantly, and multiplied, and w^axed exceeding mighty: 
and the land was filled with them." Their preserva-' 
tion in this deserted condition is rendered credible by 
that which our eyes witness every day, in their pres- 
ent population, the marks which they carry in their 
countenance decisively characteristic of their nation, 
and their separation from all the people among whom 
they dwell, although scattered over the face of the 
whole earth. This is one of the standing miracles 
which infidelity can neither gainsay nor resist. 



22S 

"Now there arose a new king over Egypt who 
knew not Joseph.'^ It is not improbable that he 
might be a stranger, or a foreigner, exalted to tha 
throne, for the government of E^ypt was elective, and 
their princes successively took the name of Pharoah, 
as it was the custom of the Roman emperors long 
afterwards to bear that of Csesar. And if this mon- 
arch was chosen from among the Egyptians, seven 
kings had reigned, and sixty years elapsed, between 
the death of Joseph and his ascension to the throne; a 
space of time more than sufficient to obliterate the sig- 
nal services of a minister from the bosom of princes. 
The bodily strength of the Israelites, and their pro- 
digious numbers, alarmed this jealous monarch; anji 
with narrow, barbarous policy, he ^'set over them task- 
masters to afflict them, and they made their lives bit- 
ter with hard bondage." It was now that the prophecy 
delivered to Abraham began to be accomplished: for 
they were "strangers in a land that was not theirs" — 
and that, in a state of servitude. 

The hand of God continued to work in defiance of 
the weak and cruel king of Egypt, a«d "the more they 
afflicted them, the more they multiplied and grew." 
The measures of Pharaoh became proportion ably se- 
vere; and not satisfied with imposing the fetters of sla- 
very, he commanded that every male child should be cast 
into the river so soon as it was born. This decree, as 
unnatural as it was sanguinary, was executed but too 
severely by those to whom the commission v/as given! 
The voice of lamentation was heard throughout the 
land; "Rachel, weeping for her children, refused to be 
comforted because they were not." Day after day 
the sun arose and set in blood. In childbirth thp 



224 

mother felt the double pangs of nature: she no longer 
rejoiced when a man child was born into the world as 
the recompense of her pains: she could no longer look 
forwards with pleasing hope, and say, "This same shall 
comfort us, concerning our work and the toil of our 
hands:" the moment the infant beheld the light, the 
stern decree of the inhuman monarch consigned it to 
the grav^! 

At this perilous period Moses was born. Three 
months, three anxious months, maternal tenderness 
eluded the vigilance of the king, and the mother con- 
cealed her child. She struggled to save his life so long 
as it was practicable: the danger became every day 
more pressing; and there remained to her but one des- 
perate resource — if resource it might be called, which 
hope scarcely dared to flatter, and which was no less 
than to expose her babe on the banks of the river. 
What coitld she do? Say, ye mothers, what would 
you have done? If she kept him he must die: if she 
exposed him there was a possibility — a bare possibility 
that he might live! An ark of bulrushes was quickly 
framed; and in this frail casket, she laid the jewel 
more precious to her than thousands of gold and silver, 
in the flags by the river's brink. Tearing herself from 
the spot, she consigned to his sister the cruel task of 
watching what would become of him. Yonder he 
lies, sleeping on the banks of the Nile, unconscious of 
the dangers which hover around his defenceless head. 
Under tiie surface of the waters, slumbered the fierce, 
nnpitying crocodile, the native of that river. Should 
a breath of wind arise, the bulrush ark would be waft- 
ed from the flags, and precipitated into the midst of 
the stream, a vessel, alas! too frail long to resist the 
waves. 



225 

In this interval of bitter suspense, the daughter of 
Pharaoh drew near to the river, and discovering 
the ark, commanded that it should be brought to her. 
"And when she had opened it, she saw the child: and 
behold, the babe wept." The pressing calls of hunger 
broke his repose, and he missed the warm, affectionate 
embrace of his mother. His limbs were chilled by the 
cold waves, and his tears excited the compassion of the 
princess. His sister, who stood by, with feelings 
which cannot be described, a spectator of the whole 
scene, was sent to call an Hebrew woman to nurse 
him: and "the maid wxnt and called the child's 
mother." 

Ah, little did the princess imagine, when she snatched 
this helpless babe from a watery grave, that she was 
the instrument of raising up a deliverer to the Israelites^ 
who should shake the throne of Egypt to its founda- 
tion. She little thought that the deserted child of a 
wretched Hebrew slave, when increased in years, 
would acquire unparalleled glory, as a legislator, as a 
prophet, as a general, and as a monarch. She did not 
foresee, when she beheld the ark floating, the sport of 
winds, and the child exposed equally to the waters, 
and to the crocodiles of the river, and pity touched 
her bosom, that he would stand upon the shores of the 
Red Sea, not only the w^itness, but the instrument, of 
the destruction of the flower and strength of Egypt: 
and that he would thus become the righteous avenger, 
at once of the cruelties of her father and his successor, 
and of the wrongs of his brethren, which they had sq 
long endured, in patient submission, and with broken 
spirits! 

"And the child grew"— and Stephen adds, he "was 
learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians." With a. 
29 



22€f 

modesty becoming the meekest of men, Moses passes 
. over his several attainments: but the testimony of the 
first martyr for Christianity is abundantly confirmed, 
by the intrinsic excellence of those very compositions 
which are now passing under our review. Clemens 
Alexandrinus* asserts, "that Moses was taught 
arithmetic, geometry, physic, music, and hieroglyph- 
ics: to which Philo adds astronomy ."t Should any 
one be disposed to insinuate, or to imagine, that from 
the fables of Egypt Moses framed his history of the 
creation, let him compare the Egyptian hypothesis, 
which is all confusion and absurdity, with the scriptu- 
ral account, which is all order and perspicuity: besides 
which, we have the most decisive evidences, that the 
Egyptian hypothesis is later by far than the Mosaic 
writings. The oldest writers extant yield to Moses in 
point of antiquity; and however distorted their com- 
positions are, they betray their source, and^bear strong 
internal evidences, that they are imperfect traditions 
from these pure records. 

If Moses was indebted, in the first instance, to the 
literature of Egypt, for the high rank which he holds 
among the ancient writers, he was indebted still more 
to the capacious natural powers which God bestowed 
upon him, without which, no culture of science could 
have elevated him so high, as an historian of such lit- 
erary eminence. He furnishes one among many evi- 
dences, that in a variety of respects one man differs 
from another. In respect of talents, man differs 
from man. We sometimes meet with a spirit emerg- 
ing from its native obscurity, and attracting the admi- 
ration of the world. Every thing conspired to throw 

* Ciem. Alex. lib. i- See Anc. Univ. Hist. vol. ILb. i. chap. 7", note N* 
t Phil J in vit, Mosis. 



I 



227 

tjhe man into the shade. Poverty frowned upon his 
birth, and shut the doors of knowledge against him. 
When he entered life, he mingled unnoticed with the 
crowd. But none could close the book of nature be- 
fore him, and no disadvantages could suppress the vig- 
or of a spirit, born to rise, and to astonish. Follow- 
ing only the benignity of nature, he brings from his 
mind such ample stores of observation, and discovers 
so much native genius, that he ascends at once to em- 
inence; and like a sun veiled from his rising, reveals at 
once to the world his glory in its noontide brightness. 
Hard by him stands ont, forced into notice. He was 
born noble and affluent. Every possible mean of im- 
provement was put into his hand, and the book of 
knowledge was opened to his view. No pains were 
spared, no expense was withheld, in his education. 
And yet his very elevation is painful. It is that of 
fortune, and not that of nature. He is always placed 
in a conspicuous situation, to be always despised; and 
the literary advantages which he enjoyed, have been 
unable to correct the deficiences of natuie. They de- 
scended upon his unfruitful mind, like the showers of 
the spring upon the sands of the desert, which imbibe 
the rain, but return neither grass nor flower. In respect 
of LITERATURE, OHO man differs from another. Here 
stands a favored son of science, who has access to na- 
ture in all her parts, through the avenues of deep and 
learned research. He has made the dead, and the 
living, contribute to his pleasure, and to his improve- 
ment. He has plundered time of all the treasures, 
which he had snatched from falling empires, and res- 
cued from the greedy grave of oblivion. And he 
moves among his fellow men, an angel for illumi- 
nation, and an oracle for wisdom. There stands hrs 



228 

rieighbor, gazing with unconscious eyes upon the page 
which he is devouring. He sees no beauty in that 
oration— no force in that train of reasoning — no con- 
clusion in that demonstration — no order in those star- 
ry heavens. All access to the tree of knowledge is 
denied to him; and he turns from the page full of ge- 
nius, of energy, of intelligence, and says, "I cannot 
read it, for I am not learned.'^ In respect of rank in 
SOCIETY, one man differs from another. One is born 
to sway a sceptre, and to rule a powerful empire. 
Nations tremble at his frown, and princes are his ser- 
vants. His navy thunders along every hostile shore, 
and the sword of his army is drunk with the blood of 
t^^e slain. He travels — and a whole country is in mo- 
tion. Harbingers precede his face, guards encompass 
his person, a willing people bow the knee to him. Not 
daring to lift his eyes, yonder peasant retires, as the 
equipage passes, and turns his rough hand, rendered hard 
by labor, to the most menial services. He eats bread, 
and drinks water, with heaviness of heart. A lar^c 
family multiplies upon him. His children cry with 
hunger. He gives them all — he divides the last loaf 
among them, and returns himself faint to the labor of 
the field, without tasting a morsel, lest he should dimin- 
ish their scanty pittance. And yet be also is a child 
of humanity! In respect of religious PRfNCiPLE, one 
man differs from another. Here, is a man who re- 
ceives every blessing as the gift of heaven with thank- 
fulness: who bends with lowly resignation under the 
stroke which robs him of his comforts. In his habi 
tation, however humble, the voice of prayer and of 
praise is constantly heard;'and his comforts, however 
few, are augmented by the benign influences of 
piety. There, is a wretched man, deeirxd happy by 



^29 

the world, who never bowed his knee before God hi^ 
maker; and never knew a gratification beyond pam- 
pering his appetite, and amassing wealth. Yet both 
are men, and equally responsible to God. With great 
natural genius, Moses enjoyed profound literature: 
from an obscure situation he rose high in the rank of 
society: to all these, he added fervent piety; and for 
all, he was far more indebted to God than to man. 

Respecting the first forty years of his life nothing is 
recorded by Moses himself; and we shall not fill up the 
blank by reciting the fables of the Jewish rabbies. 
But one thing stands on record, by the pen of an apos- 
tle, and that is to his everlasting honor: that, "when , 
he was come to years, he refused to be called the son 
of Pharaoh's daughter; choosing rather to suffer afflic- 
tion with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleas- 
ure of sin for a season: esteeming the reproach of 
Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt: for 
he had respect unto the recompense of the reward.*' 

Having attained the stature and strength of a man. 
the first effort of Moses was to break the rod of op ■ 
pression. Seeing an Egyptian smite an Israelite, one 
of his brethren, with much barbarity, he slew the of- 
ficer, and buried him in the sand. It should seem, that 
this action was performed under a divine commission, 
since Stephen says, "he supposed his brethren ^vould 
have understood, how that God by his hand would 
deliver them; but they understood not."— So far fi'om 
it, that the next day, when two Hebrews strove, and 
he interposed his friendly offices towards iiealing the 
breach, they not only did not accept his mediation, but 
accused him of the slaughter of the Egyptian. The 
thing reached the ears of the king; and Moses finding 
that it v/as known, and that his life was in danger, fled 



230 

ii>to the land of Midian, in Arabia Petrea, the me- 
tropolis of which was called Petra, not far from Ho- 
reb: which was either a mountain near that of Sinai, 
or Sinai an 1 Horeb were two summits of the same 
mountain, or Horeb was the common name for the 
whole ridge of mountains upon which Sinai was situ- 
ated: so denominated probably from their excessive 
dryness.* 

In his banishment he married Zipporah, the daugh- 
ter of the priest, or prince, of Midian: by whom he 
had a son, whom he called Gersham, which signifies, 
"a stranger here,^^ in allusion to his own situation. 
About this time the king of Egypt died: and his succes- 
sor, in compliance with customs of the time, was also 
called Pharaoh: but this change in the government of 
Egypt, effected no relaxation in the sufferings of Israel. 

But at length the hand of God was interposed; and 
the set time for the exp-.ration of their bondage having 
arrived — God "heard their cries — remembered his 
covenant — looked upon his people— and had respect 
unto them." While Moses kept the flock of his fa- 
ther-in-law at the foot of Horeb, he saw a bush which 
burned with fire, and was not consumed: striking em- 
blem of the state of his brethren, who were at that 
time — '-persecuted, but not forsaken— cast down, but 
not destroyed'/^ Turning aside to examine this phe 
nomenon, the voice of God addressed him, and com- 
manded him to draw off his shoes, because the ground 
on which he stood was holy. Perhaps the custom of 
persons putting off their shoes when they entered a 
temple, of which we read, might arise originally from 
some tradition of this history. 

*See Anc. Univ. Hist. Vol. ii. b- i. chap. 7- note Q. 



231 

And now opens his awful comnnission — a commis- 
sion so novel in its kind, so difficult in its execution, 
and so important in its consequences, that we cannot 
wonder at the reluctance which Moses felt and mani- 
fested, when commanded to undertake it. But who 
is able to withstand the counsel of God? His objections 
are overruled: his difficulties are removed: his brother 
Aaron is joined with him in the embassy; and the 
great and awful name, Jehovah, is the name by which 
God sends to the Israelites. This name was after- 
wards never pronounced by the Jews but once a year, 
and then by the high priest only, in dismissing the 
people. 

Who is not prepared for some great events, when 
the embassy is not from one prince to another, but 
from God to man? The commission of Moses open- 
ed and closed with miracles. God had said that he 
would "judge the nation" which should "oppress" the 
seed of Abraham; and he therefore permitted the 
heart of the king of Egypt to be hardened. Upon 
this principle, perhaps, we may account for the circum- 
stance, of his suffering the magicians successfully to 
imitate some of the miracles of Moses. A question 
has long been agitated respecting the operations of 
these men, the power by which they were performed, 
the agency of demons, and the existence of magical 
arts. It is a discussion foreign to a simple narration 
of facts: and would your time allow us to bring for- 
wards the various opinions of those who have written 
on the subject, we should only weary your attention^ 
and bewilder your imaginations.* 

•See note 1. of this Lecture at the end of the volume^ 



232 

It could afford you no pleasure to-night to recount 
the unequal contest between Pharaoh, and the Deity: 
to see a worm of the dust, lifting up his hand against 
God; or to dwell upon the afflictions which he brought 
upon himself, and upon his people. All nature was 
armed against this rebel. The water throughout 
Egypt was turned into blood: and when it recovered 
its natural color and qualities, it became prolific, and 
was the source of a new plague, in sending forth 
swarms of frogs. The very dust of the earth was an- 
imated, and was made an instrument of torture. The 
air was filled with insects. The cattle, and the inhab- 
itants of the land, died, with diseases new and intoler- 
able. The artillery of heaven opened upon this stub- 
born empire: God '^cast forth his ice like morsels;" 
he "thundered in the heavens," and "the fire ran along 
the ground.'' And what the hail and the tempest had 
spared, the next display of divine power utterly de- 
stroyed. An east wind blew a day and a night, and 
an army of locusts rode upon its rough pinion. Ter- 
rible beyond description is the desolation effected by 
these irresistible invaders in a few hours; and unhappy 
is the country wherever they alight — for they leave it 
"a desolate wilderness!" When these fearful enemies 
w^ere withdrawn, a darkness, prolonged three days and 
three nights, brooded over this wretched people — n 
darkness which might be felt! 

"Not such as I his; not such as nature makes; 
A midnight, nature shudder'd to behold; 
A midnight new- a dread eclipse (without 
Opposing spheres) from her Creator's frown!"* 

"Touiig' Night Thoughts: Night IV. 1. 247—250, 



233 

With inflexible obstinacy the king refused to release 
the Israelites, and the last blow was now to be struck. 
Behold then, the families of E^ypt retiring to rest, as 
every family retires — anticipating the pleasures and 
the duties of the morrow. The young man bounds to 
his chamber, with a foot unwearied by labor. The 
only son of the widow, the hope and staff of latr age, 
receives the evening salutation of maternal tenderness, 
and sinks to repose. The mother who has just enter- 
ed upon that tender relation, and has jubt begun to 
feel its pleasing anxieties, lays her sleeping babe upon 
her bosom, and smiles upon him, with inexpressible 
dciignt. Even the captive in the dungeon is bound in 
the softer fetlers of sleep, and his fit st born reposes by 
his side, a voluntaiy prisoner with his father. Pharaoh 
yields to a milder dominion, and a more gentle sceptre 
than his own; and hard by rests his eldest hope. All 
is silent; and of this multitude who have fallen asleep 
v/ithout apprehension, how many shall never see the 
morning rise! It is the hour of midnight— and in an 
instant sleep is chased from every eye — a general groan 
reverberates from the palace to the prison — -^there is 
not an liouse in which there is not one dead!" — From 
this terrible plague the family of every Israelite Vv^as 
exempted. A lamb, the type of him who was to be 
slain in the fuhiess of time, to take away the sin of the 
world, was ci-ucified; and the blood sprinkled on the 
lintel and on the two side posts of the door: and over 
alUhe houses, upon which the blood was seen, the de- 
stroying angel passed, and the inhabitants remained 
unhurt. 

Before the morning rose, the Egyptians were urgent 
with tUe people to depart, and Pharaoh sent them forth 
w.tii haste. '^Aivd the children of Israel borrowed of the 

go 



2^34 

Egyptians, jevv^els of silver, and jewels of gold, and rai- 
ment." We noticethis passage, because from ittheoppos- 
^rs of revelation, have been pleaied to deny to the Israel- 
ites common honesty. We wave tlie principle uponr 
which they might be justified, in contending that they 
had amply earned all that they borrowed of the Egyp- 
tians, by the works which they had performed, during 
their bondage, without recompense; and shall only 
submit a plain criticism on the Hebrew word, which 
our translators render, Ho borrow.^^ It is. lSKti^*>1 — de- 
rived from hi^^ — a word the primary sense ot which is, 
not to borrowyhui to ask as a gift; as may be seen by the 
following passage, where the same word is used — ^^Aslc 
of me, and I will give thee the heathen for thine in- 
heritance, and the uttermost part of the earth for thy 
possession."* Josephus, in his ancient history of the 
Jews, puts this construction upon the text, and says,^ 
^'The Egyptians honored them with presents, partly to 
induce them the sooner to depart, and partly on ac- 
count of their intimacy with them."t 

The plains of Rameses near Goshen, the land which 
Joseph gave to Israel, and which was the part of 
Egypt the nearest to Canaan, was the place where 
they assembled: and they numbered ''six hundred 
thousand on foot, that were men, beside children." 
They left Egypt, according to the prediction, at the 

*Ps,ii, 8. The phrase is, n^inKI -DDD bKI?— Tn tlie interpretation which I 
have given oi bKS',! have not fil-owco nic.ieiytiie (sp nioii oflexicogT.'jphers,- 
who all agree that its first sense is to asi' as a gift; hiii i!]>on a cioi^e c;c- 
amination of the difierent senses in which the word is Liscd in the Bible, 
in pursuing whicii I followed Taylor's Hebrew Concoitl:..nce, I foiuul 
atnon.ej' innumerable passaees reqiiiiing" ihis fii.si sense, but four which 
would bear the inter])reiation to borroiv: and one of ibese is i!\e pa3s:ig-e 
in question-^the otlier,' the dedication of Samuel by Isis mother to ^!ic 
service of God. The remuinint^ two, are in 2 Kings iv, 3, and 2 King* 
vi, 5, where unquestionably it can hnve no o'her meaning tiu'.n to horrGw-^ 
^ t Joseph Ajitiq. jud. Tom. I, lib. 11, cap. 15, p. bf. Hudson! editosr, 
Mis words are- — h^i; t2 tuc E/?^«/sf inu.m. 



2SSr 

expiration of four hundred and thirty years, computing 
from the time when the promise was first given to 
Abraham. And they earned with them the bones pf 
Joseph, in obedience to his dying requisition.* 

One more struggle was yet to be made. Notwith- 
standing the evils they had endured, Pharaoh, and all 
Egypt, regretted the departure of Israel, and resolved 
to pursue after them, to reduce them to their former 
state of servitude. He overtook them by the brink of 
the Red Sea — and in the moment when no way of 
escape appeared, and they had given up all for lost, at 
the command of God the sea was divided, and they 
passed through, "as upon dry land." The king of 
Egypt and his army followed hard after them into the 
sea: after being terrified and discomfited the whole 
pight by the power of God, in the morning they wish- 
ed to relinquish the pursuit. But the Israelites had 
now reached the opposite shore: and the sea, return- 
ing in its strength, buried the king, and his army, ,un- 
der its billows. 

Such is the Mosaic record of the slavery and deliv- 
erance of Israel, upon which w^e should not have de- 
tained you so long, were it not, that the remaining 
part of our subject is very short, and we entreat your 
patient attention for a few minutes, to 

IT. THE FOREIGN TESTIMONIES WHICH REMAIN TO 
THESE FACTS.t 

Respecting the authority of that portion of sacred 
history over which we have now passed, let the fol- 
lowing particulars be observed: 

* See note 2, of this Lecture, at the end of the volume, 
f The statements which follow, are selected principally fioiu Bishop 
Writson's Theolor,ncal Tracts; vol. i, p. 294, 8cc,. 



236 

1. It cannot be denied that there did exist such n 
person as Moses; and that he was the Jewish legisla- 
tor. JusTiN, in his abridgement of Trogus Pompeius,* 
mentions his beauty; and Longinus cites him by name, 
in his character as a lawgiver, and quotes the begin- 
ning of Genesis, as an instance of the true sublime. 

2. It will not be disputed that Moses brought the 
children of Israel from Egypt. This fact is not only 
asserted throughout the whole of the sacred writings, 
but confirmed by the combined evidence of all ancient 
historians. 

Manetho gives an account of the time, the manner, 
and many of the principal circumstances, attending this 
event; as we learn from Josephus in his first book 
against Apion.t 

Justin mentions their departure, btit assigns a Ms^ 
reason for it: this, however, does not invalidate his tes- 
timony respecting the fact in question; and so far as, 
his authority goes, it proves that the departure of Israel 
from Egypt under the conduct of Moses, was acknowl- 
edged in his days.J 

Tacitus records the same event; and asserts that 
the Jews were expelled Egypt on account of the lep- 
rosy. This conjecture, for it is no more, is perfectly 
groundless: because it is well known that the leprosy 
was a common distemper among the Egyptians; and 
for this reason, the law of Moses calls the leprosy the 
disease of Egypt, and banishes lepers from tlie congre- 
gation. 

* Justin lib. xxxvi, ctp. 2. 

■f Mantti.o, !is is cii.si(,nnavy in ancient -writers, becsiuse cif ilie ques- 
iioni.b!e sor.ices -wiience tiieir infoimuticn v> as iiequeml>' drawn, blen'^' 
liutii wiib fable, iis ma) be seen by referring- to Jof^ephus* 

t Justin jii s'jprr,, 



23? 

Pliny confirms this assertion, by speaking of the 
leprosy (which he calls Elephantiasis) as common 
to the Egyptians. They might possibly communicate 
it to the Israelites: but it is improbable that they should 
expel them for a distemper which they themselves im- 
parted to them. But 

Trogus Pompfius says that the magicians caused 
Moses and the Israelites to be expelled, because they 
themselves w^ere afflicted with a kind of murrain or 
leprosy, and were afraid lest it should spread through- 
out the land: which account probably refers to the 
plague of boils, which was brought upon all Egypt, 
because Pharaoh refused to let the people go.* Still 
observe — whatever reasons these heathen writers give 
for the departure of the Israelites from Egypt, they all 
agree in confirming the fact, that the descendants of ■ 
Abraham w^ere enslaved in Egypt, and that they 
departed out of it under the conduct of Moses. 

3. The Jews could not have asserted these miracles, 
and the deliverance of their fathers, supposing no such 
miracles to have been wrought, and no such deliver- 
ance to have been effected, without exposing them- 
selves to contempt, and their fiction to detection, among 
all the nations by which they were subdued, after the 
death of Moses and Joshua. Whereas, it does not 
appear that their records were disputed; and the writer 
of the first book of Samuel, (who was probably Sam- 
uel himself; or some contemporary, so far as his his- 
tory is concerned in it,) represents the Philistines as 
saying, when the ark of God came into the camp, 
**Woe unto us! who shall deliver us out of the hands of 
these mighty Gods? These are the Gods that smote 

• Ju*tin ut supra. See note 3, of ikis Lecture, at the end of the VQlim^. 



238 

the Egyptians with all the plagues in the wilderness:" 
evidently an imperfect tradition of these facts, as they 
confound the transactions of Egypt, and those of the 
wilderness, together. Now what purpose could it an- 
swer to put into the mouth of the Philistines, such a 
declaration, if they did not really utter it, except to 
expose the historian to contempt? as, at the time, arty 
one, was able to contradict it, if it were not true. But 
it is evident that the remembrance of these miracles 
was not confined to Egypt: and that other lands had 
heard of them, and believed them. 

4. NuMENius, a Pythagorean philosopher, relates 
that Jannes and Jambres (as is recorded also in the 
New Testament) were chosen by the Egyptians, to 
oppose Moses, and "to hinder the effects of his mira- 
cles and prayers, which had brought dowri many 
grievous plagues upon Egypt, just about the time of 
the Jews' banishment from that country." 

5. The Jews themselves, upon whom Moses could 
not have imposed in the first instance, kept in remem- 
brance all the principal facts which we have recited 
this night, by their rites; which rites received birth 
with the events themselves, and w^ere kept up till the 
coming of Christ; and some of them, connected in^ 
separably with the departure from Egypt, are celebra- 
jted to this hour among the Jews: such are the pass- 
over, and the redemption of the first born. 

O". In a most able work, entitled "reflections upon 
the Books of the Holy Scriptures, to establish the 
Truth of the Christian Religion," a custom of the 
Egyptians is mentioned, which continued till after 
Jesus Christ: "They used to mark with red, their 
sheep, their trees, their houses, and their lands, the day 
before the passover; as may be seen in Epiphanius; 



230 

Which custom could proceed from no other cause, 
than from the fear of the Egyptians lest the same 
plague and mortality should come upon them, which 
was inflicted upon their forefathers, and from the hope 
of preventing it, by the use of a talisman, somewhat 
resembling the sprinkling of the blood of the paschal 
lamb on the doors of the Israelites, which was the 
method prescribed to Moses, for the deliverance of his 
people from that great plague*." 

Lastly, These miracles were confirmed by succeed- 
ing ones equally important, and equally authenticated. 
Among others — the pillar of fire and cloud, which 
preceded the Israelites, and which was so serviceable 
to them, and so injurious to Pharaoh, during their 
passage through the Red Sea, is mentioned by Euse- 
Bius, who says, "that the remembrance of it was pre- 
served, to his time, at Memphis." — Diodorus Siculus 
also, when he is recording the history of the Troglo- 
dytes, mentions a tradition, among the native inhabit- 
ants of the spot, of the division of the Red Seat. 

Such was the slavery and the deliverance of Israel, 
according to Moses: such are the reasons upon which 
we present this account to you as strictly true; and 
such are the testimonies w^hich we have been able to 
select from other ancient historians; and we think we 
may venture to affirm, that God has not left his word 
without a witness. It is easy for infidelity to imagine. 

* This work was composed by P. AUixj a French refu(;ee: it was 
published in London in 1688: this extract is in chap iii. on the four lasv 
^ooijr o/il/o.sej.- the general argiiments used above will be found in \h'\s 
work, which Is preserved in Bishop Watson's Tlieoiogical Tracts. Vol. I* 
p, 295. 

t Diod. Sic. lib. iii. p. 122. Tliis tradition is noticed also in Bruce's 
Travels, Vol. II. p. 136, 137, new 8v'o. edition. For the orjyinrd pnssnge. 
■see note 4, of this Lecture at the end of the volume. 



240 

that siich and such things are impositions fiow: the 
question is, how were they imposed upon mankind at 
the timt? And by what means, supposing they were 
impositions, did they obtain credit in the w^orld? Why 
have they not been detected and overthrown, with 
other impositions? How is it that these fables have 
survived the attacks of time, when so many authentic 
histories have sunk under them? In short, it is much 
easier for skepticism to raise objections against revela- 
tion, than to remove the difficulties which clog its 
own system. When you consider the distant period 
in which these events took place: the darkness and 
idolatry of the heathen world: the separation of the 
Jews from all other nations: the difficulties of a lan- 
guage no longer in use: the mere fragments of heathen 
historians which have come down to us — the wonder 
is not, that obscurity should rest upon the evidences 
of the Mosaic account of things so remote, but that 
such decisive and numerous testimonies of other wri- 
ters should remain. It becomes skepticism to urge its 
objections against the Bible w^ith caution, and to op- 
pose it with decency. The testmionies w hich we have 
produced deserve, at least, some small regard, and are 
not to be overthrown by ridicule, by witticisms, by the 
sneer which distorts the countenance, the contempt 
which swells upon the lip, or the scorn which looks 
from the eye, of a deist. We feel no apprehensions 
in submitting this volume to the attacks of infidelity. 
These writings have stood too many ages, to excite any 
alarm in our bosom, from assaults such as those which 
are levelled against them in the present day. Let its 
adversaries produce a better system: let them invent 
something more consolatory to the heart, and more 
adapted to human feelings, and human expectations. 



1 



241 

living and dying: let them overturn the evidenced 
which have resisted the devastations of so many cen- 
turies: let them prove it useless and injurious: and 
then shall our hearts begin "to tremble for the ark of 
God." — Till then, we adhere, with perfect cheerful- 
ness, to a just and acknowledged principle, and calm- 
ly abide all its consequences: ^'If this counsel, or this 
work, be of men, it will come to nought: but if it be 
of God, ye cannot overthrow it!" 



LECTURE IX- 

THE JOURNEY OF ISRAEL IN THE WILDERNESS^ 
THEIR ESTABLISHMENT IN CANAAN; AND THE 
CIRCUMSTANCES ATTENDING THESE EVENTS. 

JOSHUA XXIV, 2—13. 

And Joshua said unto all the people, Thus saiih the 
Lord God of Israel, Your fathers dwelt on the oth^ 
er side of the flood in old time, even Terah, the fa- 
ther of Abraham, and the father ofNachor: andthey 
served other Gods. A)id I took your father Ahra* 
ham from the other side of the flood, and led him 
throughout all the land of Canaan, and multipli- 
ed his seed, and gave him Isaac, And I gave unto 
Isaac, Jacob and Esau: and I gave unto Esau 
Mount Seir, to possess it; but Jacob and his chil- 
dren went dotvn into Egypt. I sent Moses also 
and Aaron, and I plagued Egypt, according to that 
which I did among them: and afterward I brought 
you out. And I brought your fathers out of Egypt: 
and ye came unto the sea; and the Egyptians pur- 
sued after your fathers with chariots and horsemen 
unto the Red Sea. And when they cried unto the 
Lord, he put darkness between you and the Egyp- 
tians, and brought the sea upon them, and covered 
them; and your eyes have seen what I have done in 
Egypt: and ye dwelt in the wilderness a long sea^ 
son. And I brought you into the land of the Am- 
orites, which dwelt on the other side Jordan; and 
they fought wiih you: and I gave them into your 
hand, that ye might possesst heir land; and I destroy- 



243 

ed them from before you. Then Balak the son of 
Zippor, king of Mouh, arose and warred against 
Israel, and sent and called Balaam the son rfBeor 
to curse you: But I would not hearken unto Balaam; 
therefore he blessed you still: So I delivered you out 
of his hand. And ye went over Jordan, and came 
unto Jericho and the men ofJoricho brought against 
you, the Amorites, and the Peri^zites, and the Ca- 
naanites, and the Hittites, and the Girgashites, the 
Hivites, and the Jebusites; and I delivered them into 
your hand. And I sent the hornet before you, 
which drave them out from before you, even the two 
kings of the Amojites; but not with thy sword, nor 
with thy bow. And I have given you a land for 
which ye did not labor y and cities which ye built not, 
and ye dwell in them; of the vineyards and olive- 
yards which ye planted not, do ye eat! 

WE are indebted to God himself, for all the infor- 
mation which we possess in relation to either his na- 
ture or his operations. He furnishes the mediuni 
through which he is seen in the visible creation, in the 
arrangements of Providence, in the scheme of redemp- 
tion: and all that we are able to comprehend of ^'life 
and immortality," is '^brought to light by the gospel." 
The human mind requires a medium through which 
it may discern God, as the eye requires a medium 
through which it may see. As that medium to the 
eye is light, so is the medium of the spirit, illumina- 
tion. it is in vain that creation subsists around me, 
except I have an organ of vision. To the blind man 
it is annihilated. The works of God exist, but not to 
him: he is insensible of their beauties, he never Vv^as 
permitted to admire their symmetry. J^nd it is iu 



244 

vain that we possess an organ of vision, unless some 
medium be furnished through which it may operate. 
I ascend the mountain at midnight, and look from its 
summit. The landscape around me is the same as at 
mid- day, and the organ of vision is the same: but 
light, the medium through which the eye sees, is want- 
ing; and I look for the river, for the meadow, for the 
mansion, for the hill, for all the beauties of the scene- 
ry, in vain — I am presented with ^'an universal blank." 
It is in vain that, as an intelligent creature, I am sur- 
rounded by the works of God, and am furnished with 
reasoning powers, with a capacity formed to contem- 
plate, to examine, and to admire them, unless I am 
furnished also with some medium through which they 
may be seen. Revelation is that medium. Were the 
eye of reason quenched in the spirit, the mind would 
be in that state of incapacity to discern the invisible 
God, as is the man born blind to examine his works. 
And were the light of revelation extinguished, although 
the man were in full possession of his intellectual pow- 
ers, he would resemble the person on the summit of 
the mountain at midnight, in vain attempting to ex- 
plore the landscape: he would possess the organ, but 
be destitute of the medium; he would have the eye, 
but not the light. And, for this reason, the apostle 
represents the heathens, as "feeling after, if haply 
they might fmd God, although he was not far from 
every one of them:" as men involved in perfect dark- 
ness, although possessing the organ of vision, are com- 
pelled to feel for the object of their pursuit, even when 
that object is at their side, or before their face. 

It will be readily acknowledged, that through the 
medium of revelation alone, we can form any concep- 
tion of things which are ^'not seen as yet." We can 



243 

know nothing, we can anticipate nothing of futurity, 
but as revealed religion removes the curtain, and un 
veils a portion of invisible objects. But we will ven 
ture to assert, that the visible creation itself is not be- 
held to perfection^ but through the medium of revela- 
tion. "The heavens declare the glory of God, and 
the firmament she weth his handy work:" butthe man 
who has never received this divine medium, discerns 
not that glory. "Day unto day uttereth speech, night 
unto night sheweth knowledge:" "Inhere is no speech 
nor language, where their voice is not heard" — but he 
understands not their testimony. For this reason, 
many have beheld their beauties, and have heard their 
voice, who have not acknowledged the existence of 
God; and, from these alone, none have understood 
his perfections. And if revelation be necessary to the 
developement of creation, how much more is it neces- 
sary to unfold the mysteries of Providence! After all, 
but little is at present discovered. Our curiosity is 
repressed, and our impatience controlled, by the de- 
claration, "what I do, thou knowest not now, but 
thou shalt know hereafter." Yet we are permitted, 
sometimes through this medium, to comprehend a part 
of the scheme, that we may form some conception of 
the magnificence of the whole. God decyphers a lit- 
tle of his own mysterious handwriting, to prove his 
perfect ability to construe the entire volume. He 
makes known a portion of his purposes, as a pledge, 
that he will, hereafter, fulfil his engagement to shew 
the harmony, the propriety, and the wisdom of all. 

The scripture fact to be illustrated this night, is. 
The journey of israel in the wilderness; their 

ESTABLISHMENT IN CANAAN; AND THE CIRCUMSTAN- 
CES ATTENDING THESE EVENTS, 



246 

This subject will completely confirm the preceding 
observations; for we shall see, in some instances, the 
wisdom and harmony of Providence, while so deep 
obscurity rests upon others, as to compel us to ac- 
knowledge, that "secret things belong to God." Our 
Lecture must comprehend more or less of that history 
comprised in the last four books of Moses, from the 
fifteenth chapter of Exodus, to the twenty-fourth cha^p- 
ter of Joshua inclusive, embracing a period of about 
sixty-four years. We shall adopt in the present in- 
stance, our general mode of discussion, which is, to 
consider these events, with their concomitant circum- 
stances, as they are related in the scriptures: to set 
before you such foreign testimonies as appear calculated 
to elucidate and to confirm the scriptural narration; and 
to attempt an answer to some objection which skepti- 
cism has raised against this part of the sacred records, 

I. WE SHALL CONSIDER THESE EVENTS, WITH THEIR 
CONCOMITANT CIRCUMSTANCES, AS THEY ARE RE- 
LATED IN THE SCRIPTURES. 

Our object, at present, is to produce an epitome of 
the narrative to be considered, is as brief a form as pos- 
sible; and for a more complete history of the wander- 
ings and establishment of these singularly preserved 
people, we must refer you to the Bible itself, whose 
unadorned, and faithful record, may be consultedi 
at your leisure. 

In tracing the Israelites through all their journey, 
and regarding them as eyewitnesses of the wonders 
performed for their preservation.we shall find theirchar- 
acter to be precisery such as David represented it, when 
he said, "they sang his praises, but they soon forgat his 
w orks!" When they beheld the Egyptians dead upon 



24t 

the sea shore, undet" a grateful impression of the mir- 
aculous deliverance wrought on their behalf, they join- 
ed in the sublime anthem of their leader: and if we were 
to form our judgment upon the appearance then pre- 
sented of attachment to the God who fought for them, 
we should conclude that his goodness could never be 
obliterated from their remembrance, and that their 
thankfulness could never by any dangers be extinguish- 
ed. Scarcely, however, had three days elapsed, before 
they murmured because the waters of Marah were bit- 
er: and no sooner was this evil remedied, than their 
provisions failed, and their complaints were renew- 
ed with indecent violence. With indulgent kind- 
ness, the Lord supplied their necessities, by sending, 
with the dew of the morning, a substance bearing 
some resemblance to a small pearl, which answer- 
ed the purpose of bread, and which, not knowing 
by what name to call it, they termed Manna — a 
word implying, "what is iiT^ — in the evneing a pro- 
digious flock of quails came up, and covered the 
camp. This event took place about the middle of 
April, at which period these birds are observed to 
cross the Red Sea in vast numbers. The miracle 
therefore consisted, not so much in the immense 
multitudes which fell in the camp of Israel, as in 
the direction of them thither, precisely at the time 
When the Israelites needed them, and on the very 
evening in which God had, by the naouth of Moses, 
promised to send them.* 

Upon receiving this miraculous assistance, they con- 
tinued their journey; and immediately afterwards, 
the failure of water drew from them fresh murmu rings 
at the perils of their situation, and new reproaches at 

•See Anc. Univ. Hist. Vol. ii. b. i< cliap. 7- note C^ p. 59J- 



248 

their inoffensive and skilful general. Moses smote a 
rock, from which issued a stream to supply their ne- 
cessities. We must observe once for all, that it is no 
part of our business to enter into a defence of the mir- 
acles which it may be necessary to notice in this 
course of Lectures, or to answer the objections which 
have been raised against them: our engagement is sim- 
ply to state the events as they are recorded, as so ma- 
ny matters of fact, and to produce such confirmations 
of them, as such, as the fragments of ancient histori- 
ans furnish. It may be proper also to remark, in or- 
der to preserve distinctness of apprehension in pursuing 
this narrative, that Moses smote another rock upon a 
similar occasion — and that these were two distinct 
events. The first took place at Rephidim, in their 
eleventh station:* the second in the desert of Sin, in 
their thirty-third station. t The one happened, in the 
first year of their departure from Egypt; the other, in 
the fortieth. The former was smitten by the rod of 
Moses, the instrument of the wonders performed in 
Egypt: the latter, by the rod of Aaron, which budded 
to determine the priesthood. The one took place be- 
fore the erection of the tabernacle; and the other, af- 
ter it. This, was performed with calmness: tJiat,W3iS 
smitten in anger; and the conduct of Moses so dis- 
pleased the Lord, that it was the cause of his prohibi- 
tion from entering the land of Canaan. J Having 
made these remarks, we shall be in no danger of con- 
founding these two, distinct events. 

Before they removed from this station, they were 
compelled to fight with the Amalekites. Joshua 
went out to battle at the head of the army: Moses as- 

•Exodus xvii, 6. jNumb. xx, 11. 

±See Anc. Univ. Hist. vol. ii, chap. 7. note T. p. 596, 597- 



24g 

«endcd the top of the hill, with the rod of God in his 
hand, probably to intercede for the interposition of 
heaven — Israel prevailed so long as his hands were 
elevated: but when through weariness he suffered 
them to drop, victory leaned to the side of Amalek. 
Aaron and Hur supported his arms till the sun went 
down, and Amalek was subdued. How lovely is fra- 
ternal unity! Even Moses needed assistance; and who 
can pass through life without it? Let ws learn, that 
our burdens are lightened, our peace promoted, and 
our success ensured, by mutual kindness, and by mu- 
tual attention. And who can read this singularly 
beautiful narration, without being reminded of Jesus 
our Mediator, through whose intercession, and the 
lifting up of his hands, w^e have freedom of access to 
God now, and shall finally be made more than con- 
querors, over all our enemies? 

This victory opened the way to Sinai, and with the 
most awful emotions we approach the sacred moun- 
tain! Gathering around its foot, the tribes of Israel 
present themselves before the eternal Lawgiver. The 
trumpet has sounded loud, and long, to call their lead- 
er into the thick darkness: and see, with a palpitating 
heart, he prepares to obey the summons! The thunder 
rolls peal upon peal to announce the descent of the 
Deity. With frequent, and vivid flashes, the light- 
ning cleaves the cloud, and darts across the dreadful 
obscurity. Sinai trembles to its base, and "a great and 
strong wind" rushes through the desert. Every time 
the trumpet sounds, it increases in lou(}ness: and 
as it sounds long, the signal thrills through every heart, 
and fear blanches every countenance. The holy hill 
is fenced: and the command of God is, ''Charge the 
people, lest they break through v»nto the Lord to gaze, 
3? 



250 

c^nd many of them perish." As with one voice, the 
whole camp rang with their supplications to Moses — 
*Speak ,thou w ith us, and we will hear: but let not 
God speak with us, lest w€ die!" — Such were the ter- 
rors of the former dispensation, and such the stern 
command which forbade too near an approach to God. 
But far other sounds are heard from yonder mount of 
peace. The frame of nature is indeed convulsed, 
darkness extends her mantle over the sky, the sun 
withdraws his shining, and the clouds w^eep some 
drops of pity: but these are marks of sympathy, not 
indications of wrath. Yonder sufferer blesses with his 
dying lips, compassion floats in his dim and languid 
eyes, and the language of peace issues from his tongue^ 
as it cleaves to the roof of his mouth. "It is finish- 
ed" — rolls on the air, with inexpressible softness. 
The heart is melted by this scene, but not terrified. 
Contrition lays her gentle hand upon the obdurate spir- 
it. The unpitying eye forgets its ferocity, and learns to 
weep. No command thunders, ^^vhosoever toucheth 
the mount, shall surely be put to death:" but a voice 
like a gale of a summer's evening whispers^ "Come 
up hither, for yet there is room!" 

In receiving the law from the hand of heaven, 
Moses was forty days absent on the mount. A por- 
tion of this time, the Israelites patiently waited: but 
at length, forgetting the recent terrors with which the 
near approach of the Deity had filled their bosoms, 
and impatient of delay, they compelled Aaron, by 
their importunity and violence, to form a golden calf; 
and to this idol they bowed down as unto their God. 
—We conceive that they borrowed this image from 
tlte Egyptian mythology: for without it, a calf, ouq 
ipbould suppose, would have been the last symbol they 



251 

would have chosen, as a representation of the Deity. 
As the term '-'■calf''^ is by no means completely defi- 
nite, it is highly probable, that it was an exact resem- 
blance of one of the Egyptian idols. The Egyptian 
Isis had the face of a calf, with the form of a man 
from the neck downwards. The Egyptian Apis was 
altogether the similitude of a calf. There has been 
one objection raised against this position; which is, 
that the idolatry of Israel was anterior to the worship 
of these idols, or of animal resemblances in Egypt: but 
we think this assertion hard to be proved. Idols, and 
image worship, teere in existence in those days, or the 
Israelites had not dreamt of them; and Egypt, the 
mother of hieroglyphics, would hardly be the last to 
embrace the system of idolatry. Admitting our posi- 
tion, which will at once account for the symbol of the 
Deity chosen by the Israelites, we are furnished with 
further evidences of the facts — that they actually re- 
sided in Egypt, from a knowledge of their customs — 
and that they had recently departed thence, from the 
attachment, and preference, shewn to the objects of 
their woiship. 

From this event, follov/ a succession of rebellions in 
various shapes, and appointments of divers ceremo- 
nies. The next point of importance upon which we 
fix, is the sending of twelve men as spies to view the 
promised land. Ten of these messengers brought back 
an evil report; and Joshua, and Caleb, alone attempt- 
ed, by a just and manly relation, to encourage the 
heaits^ and to strengtlien the hands, of the people. 
Such, however, was their discontent, that they resolv- 
ed to return to their bondage in Egypt; and were ac 
tually consulting whom to choose as a leader, wjien 
the uproar was suppressed, by the appearance of the 



^54 

their towns fortified by nature, and by art: their forces 
concentrated, and their interests united by alliances: 
this union was strengthened by alarm: they had every 
thing to lose, and with the tnost determined and steady 
courage, they resolved to repel the invaders. 

After the spies sent by Joshua to inspect the coun- 
try had returned in peace, preparations were made for 
passing the river Jordan. This hazardous undertak- 
ing, which was to cast the die, and to commence the 
Conflict with the Canaanites, was arranged under the 
i'mmediate direction of Heaven. The people sancti- 
fied themselves, and the priests bearing- the ark of God 
opened the procession. Each tribe observed the same 
order as they had done in their marches. The enter- 
prise commenced on a day which answers to the thir- 
tieth of our April, the day on which the paschal lamb 
was selected and separated. At this time of the year, 
Jordan usually overflowed its banks, from the melting 
of the snows of Lebanon, and of other neighboring 
mountains._But so soon as the feet of the priests, 
who bare the ark, touched the waves of this rapid 
river, God caused the stream to roll back: and it stood 
in heaps far beyond the city of Adam, while the flood 
below continuing its course to the Dead Sea, opened a 
passage of about sixteen or eighteen miles in breadth, 
for the armies of Israel, till tliey had passed over. 
The priests who had continued in the bed of the river 
till the whole army had crossed, now remained 
while twelve stones were set up which might be seen 
on either shore when the waters were abated, and un- 
til twelve stones, taken out of the channel, wxre piled 
on the other side of the river. They then ascended to 
the opposite shore, and Jordan, with its wonted im- 
petuosity, rolled its stream towards the Dead Sea. 



255 

After this miraculous passage, the passover was celr 
ebrated for the third time. Jericho was soon after 
taken in an extraordinary manner; and the accounf 
of its capture, is abundantly strengthened, by the ful- 
filment of a most remarkable prophecy uttered at the 
time. Joshua predicted, when it was rased to the 
ground, that whosoever should attempt to rebuild it, 
should "lay the foundations thereof in his firstborn, 
and set up the gates thereof in his youngest son." — 
This curse was Jiterally fulfilled above five hundred 
and fifty years 5tfter it was denounced. Hiel, the Be- 
thelite, attempted to rebuild it: but "belaid the foun- 
dation thereof in Abiran, his firstborn, and set up the 
gates thereof in his youngest son Segub," who both 
died in consequence of the trespass of their father. 
After the death of Achan, the conquest of the land 
was effected in about six years. 

In the battle against the five kings who fought 
against Gibeon, two miracles are recorded: the assist- 
ance afforded the Israelites by a fall of hailstone*, and 
the standing still of the sun and moon at the com- 
mand of Joshua. For the first of these, we observQ 
that it is now no uncommon thing to read of a storm 
literally of stones, which probably was the case in this 
tempest of Joshua: and these phenomena have been 
attributed to earthquakes, eruptions, and various 
causes. The miracle then, consists in the timing of 
this awful storm, and the direction of its fury against 
the enemies of Israel. For the standing still of the 
sun and moon, we conceive that this miracle does not 
militate against the present system of astronomy, since 
the suspension of the earth's motion would produce 
the same appearances, and not only the sun and 
moon, but all the planets, would necessarily seem to 



256 

be stationary. As this last was a miracle, conspicu- 
ous not merely to the enemies with whom they fought, 
but to all nations, it must have been to the Canaanites, 
a most afflictive demonstration, that the hand of God 
was against them, and with their enemies; and thus 
is the design, the pi'opriety, and the necessity, of this 
miracle, at once demonstrated. Thus by little and 
little the whole land was subdued, till the Israelites 
obtained complete possession; and before he closed 
his eyes in death, Joshua divided the whole country 
among the several tribes, and beheld the final accom- 
plishment of the promise, which God had made, so 
many centuries before, to Abraham. Having brought 
into as narrow compass as possible the statement of 
these facts according to the scriptures, 

II. WE SHALL SET BEFORE YOU SUCH FOREIGN TEST!" 
MONIES AS APPEAR TO US CALCULATED TO ELUCI- 
DATE AND TO CONFIRM THIS ACCOUNT. 

We shall produce, 

I. Positive evidence from the most ancient 
WRITERS, either relative to particular facts, or to the 
circumstances attending them. The birth of Moses, 
his deliverance from the water, and his receiving the 
moral Jaw, is selected by Eusebius out of Aristobu- 
Lus. The ancient writer of the Orphic verses, after 
asserting that only one God is to be worshipped as the , 
Creator and Governor of the world, adds, ''So was it 
said of old: so he commands, who was born of water, 
and who received of God the two great tables of the 
moral law." Strabo applauds Moses for reproving 
the error of the Egyptians in likening the Deity to 
beasts, Juvenal mentions the adherence of the Jews 
to their Jaw *'given by Moses." As a writer he is 



255 

spoken of by Diodorus Siculus, Pliny, and Taci 
Tus; and they regard his history with great respect 
We have already seen that Longinus quotes ihe 
opening of Genesis, as an instance of the true sublime. 
Ghalcidius borrowed many things from the writings 
of Moses, whom he calls "the wisest of men, enliven- 
ed not by human eloquence, but by divine inspiration." 
Hermippas, in his life of Pythagoras, quoted by Jose- 
phus against Apion, says, that "he took many things 
into his own philosophy from the Jewish laws." An- 
cient writers in general conspire to speak highly of the 
piety of the Jews, so long as they adhered to the law. 
These testimonies furnish a most decisive evidence, 
both of the antiquity of the Mosaic writings, and of 
the estimation in which his history was held*. The 
Egyptians imitated the Urim and Thummim, men- 
tioned in the ceremonial laws: for Diodorus says?, 
that the chief justice "carries on his neck an image of 
precious stones, suspended on a golden chain." The 
heathen Poets assert that Jupiter overwhelmed the 
enemies of Hercules in Arim, which is precisely the 
country where Joshua fought with the children of 
Anak, by "a tempest of stones." Moreover it appears 
credible that the fables current in the heathen world, 
of the protraction of the day and of the night, attrib- 
uted to their deities, as their pleasure, or their con- 
venience required, originated in the fact of the miracle 
wrought by Joshua, in arresting the light of the sun 
and moon. 

The establishment of the Jews in Canaan, as a fact, 
cannot be questioned. They long made it the seat of 
empire. Skepticism itself admits the existence of the 

• Grotius de Ver. Relig. Christ. § 16- See also note 1, of tbis Lectur©, 
at the end of the vohime. 

ss 



257 

nations which preceded Israel: but objects to the 
conduct of Joshua in dispossessing them of their terri- 
tories. 

The testimonies which we have adduced confirm 
the Mosaic history as a whole, rather than detached 
parts of it; and surely when it is considered, as it has 
been clearly proved by Josephus on the testimony of 
Manetho,* that the settlement of the Jews in Canaan 
was three hundred and ninety-three years before Da- 
naus came to Argos, whom the Grecians acknowledge 
their most ancient prince, and from whom they are 
frequently named; and that it preceded the transac- 
tions of Troy, celebrated by their most ancient poet, 
a thousand years; particular confirmations of such 
striking events as the deluge, and a general acquies- 
cence with the scripture record, is all that ought to be, 
and all that can be, expected from heathen writers. 
They could not know any thing of these circumstan- 
ces but by tradition. Orpheus himself lived but one 
thousand years before Christ; Hesiod, nine hundred; 
HoiviER, eight hu dred and fifty. Orpheus himself, 
therefore, was onl;; contemporary with Rehoboam, the 
son of Solomon. The settlement in Canaan took 
place one thousand four hundred and twenty-seven 
years before the birth of our Lord: that is, four hun- 
dred and twenty-seven years before Hesiod: and five 
hundred and seventy-seven years before the celebrated 
Homer. Is it a subject for wonder that obscurity 
should rest upon facts so ancient? We appeal to the 
unprejudiced^ — is it not rather extraordinary, that facts 
so remote should have evidences so strong and deci- 
sive? We wish to produce, 

* See note 2, of this Leclui'e, at the end of Ihe volume. 



258 

2. Considerations which may be deemed cir- 
cumstantial EVIDENCES. 

Wtien the law was given at Sinai, it was given pub- 
liciy. Nothing was done in secret. Peculiar glory, 
splendor, and notoriety, attended its dispensation. It 
was not a meeting of the chiefs of the nation, who re- 
ported to the people that such an appearance had been 
manifested to them. No! the whole camp witnessed 
the magnificent scene. They were not asleep when 
God descended in terrible majesty. They were awake 
to every transaction, when they prostrated themselves 
on the ground, and cried, *'Let not God speak to us, 
lest we die." Moses could not impose on their senses. 
Is it probable, had not the Israelites actually seen "this 
great sight," and had they not been completely con- 
vinced that Moses was forty days and forty nights up- 
on Mount Sinai, and that he really did receive the law 
from the hand of God, — is it probable that they would 
have submitted to the moral, and especially to the cer- 
emonial laws, many of which were opposite both to 
their opinions, and to their ancient customs? The ad- 
herence of the Jews to their law in every age, is an in- 
contestable proof that they believe the fact of the man- 
ner in which it was given; and how was it possible for 
Moses to deceive their fathers, in those things of which 
they were eye and ear-witnesses? We say nothing re- 
specting the morality, the equity, and the perfection 
of the moral law, which demonstrates that God alone 
could be its author. Compared with it, all the admir- 
ed codesof the wisest legislators of antiquity are bar- 
barous. We wave this, and simply ask a question, 
which we challenge infidelity to answer, if it be able. 
A man may pretend to a revelation, without having it, 
as did Mahomet: but the case before us is widely dif.^ 



258 

ferent. Here is no secresy, or concealment; her are 
no visions or dreams. The cloud, the fire, the trum- 
pet, the darkness, were seen and heard by all the camp 
of Israel. They were prepared for the event by puri- 
fication. Moses ascended in their presence, and de- 
scended before them. They saw his fears: they saw 
the tables of the law taken up, plain, ungraven stone: 
they saw them when they were brought down, filled. 
Events were recorded at the moment in which they 
took place: his history was in the hands of his contem- 
poraries; and his law was publicly read at stated peri- 
ods. We ask, how was it possible for him to impose, 
in the first instance, upon the Jews? We are reduced 
to this alternative. Either we must give up the his- 
tory of Moses (corroborated as it is by foreign testis 
monies) altogether: we must believe his book a for- 
gery from first to last: we must even deny the exist- 
ence of the Jewish nation at that period: or we must 
admit his miracles as matters of fact; since he could 
no more impose the manner of the giving of the law, 
than the law itself] upon the Jews. Admit that the 
law was given, and that he is the author of these 
books, and you must to be consistent, admit all its cir- 
cumstances. 

Respecting the manna, the pillar of cloud and of 
fire, and other miraculous circumstances attending: 
their journey, was it possible to have imposed the be- 
lief of these things upon the progenitors of the Jews 
(through whose hands these writings were transmitted 
from generation to generation) unless they really exist- 
ed? Was it possible to persuade the multitude, that 
they were every day fed from heaven, for the space of 
forty years, had not this actually been the case? And 
without a miraculous supply, how could Moses march 



250 

such an army, through such a country, except he pos- 
sessed an enormous magazine of provisions? And from 
what sources could he derive it? 

Whence arose the various customs of the Jevi^s per- 
petuated to the present hour, if they did not originate 
in facts such as he records? What could give rise to 
the passover? What could have suggested the various 
ceremonies of the Jewish worship? Was not the bra- 
zen serpent in existence in the days of Hezekiah? 
What has preserved these singular institutions in every 
age, and in every country? They must have had some 
origin. We admire two things in the divine govern- 
ment: the one — the perpetuation of miracles till after 
the coming of Christ, so that every fresh miracle con- 
firmed former ones: the other — the continuation of the 
rites of the Jews down to the present hour. Were it 
not from the circumstance of the rejection of the Sa- 
vior by the Jews, and their consequent obstinate ad- 
herence to their ceremonial law, perhaps it would be 
denied that such rites ever existed. In this we cannot 
but perceive the wisdom of Providence, amid all its 
obscurity. Could a whole nation, from first to last, 
be deceived? Impossible! I never see a Jew, without 
feeling conviction of the truth of divine revelation. 

The reservation of some of the Canaanites for sev- 
eral ages, and the total extermination of them having 
never been effected, was a decisive evidence to succeed- 
ing generations, who w^re not eye-witnesses of the 
entrance of their fathers into Canaan, both of the ex- 
istence, and of the manners, of its former inhabitants; 
and, by consequence, a confirmation of all the records 
put into their hands. This doubtless was one import- 
ant reason why they were not all destroyed. 



260 

Once again — the reference which all the writings of 
Moses had to the Messiah, forms a part of that grand 
and unbroken chain, which runs through the whole 
volume of scripture, from first to last, and which ren- 
ders it impossible to take away any part without de- 
stroying the beauty, and affecting the existence, of all. 

iii. we shall notice the objections which skep- 
ticism has raised against this part of the sa- 
cred writings. 

1. They object to the conduct of the Israel- 
iTEs AS IMMORAL. They have compared the settle- 
ment of the Jews in Canaan, to the cruelty of the 
Spaniards in Mexico, and have asserted, that the one 
had as little right as the other, to dispossess the original 
inhabitants of these respectiv^e places, of their territo- 
ries. Before the writings of Moses are condemned al- 
together on these plausible pretences, we shall interpose 
a series of propositions drawn up by a most able hand,* 
which we think are unanswerable, but upon which you 
will form your own conclusions. They are as follows: ' 
''That the Almighty has a sovereign right over the lives 
and fortunes of his creatures: That the iniquity of na- 
tions, may become such as to justify him in destroy- 
ing those nations: That he is free to choose the instru- 
ments by which he will effect such destruction: That 
there is not more injustice or cruelty, in effecting it by 
the sword, than by famine, pestilence, whirlwind, del- 
uge, and earthquake: that the circumstance of a di- 
vine commission entirely alters the state of the case, and 
distinguishes the Israelites from the Spaniards, or any 
other plunderers, as much as a warrant from the magis- 
trate distinguishes the executioner from the murderer: 

* ^isbop Ho.:-ne., 



261 

That men may be assured of God's giving such a com- 
mission: And there is incontestable evidence upon re- 
cord, and from facts, that the Israelites were thus as- 
sured " We think it will require no small degree of 
skill, to overturn propositions so reasonable, and so 
admirably dependant upon each other. 

2. They object to it as chuel: on account of 
the slaughter of children. This is an argument pro- 
duced on every occasion in which the Bible records 
human desolation. We have again to remind them, 
that, on this principle, they ought to quarrel with fam- 
ine, and earthquakes, and all the scourges of nature; 
and not only so, but with the natural stroke of death, 
by which thousands of children are destroyed every 
day. In a word, if the security and tianquiHity of 
infants be the reasonable result of their freedom from 
actual offence, we must arrive -at this point, tliat they 
ought in justice to be delivered from the infliction of all 
evil; and thus must we either deny the experience of 
every day, which exhibits children suffering pains and 
sorrows incessantly, or habitually dispute the justice, 
and the goodness, of God, in the government of the 
world. 

3. They object to it as improper. They assert, 
that God should not use instruments, who miji^ht be 
hardened by the execution of their commission. In 
every point of view the case was different with the 
Jews. It was not effected, said the text justly, by their 
*'own sword," and by their "own bow:''' but by the 
''hornet," and by a series of miracles, which plainly de- 
monstrated the interposition of Providence. Moreover^ 
the execution of their commission, was not calcula- 
ted to harden their hearts against any thing but sin; 
and was designed as an awful lesson of caution to 



262 

themselves: since they were expressly assured, that the 
same vices would draw upon them the same displeas- 
ure, expose them inevitably to the same calamities, and 
drown them in the same perdition. 

The history which has passed under review, affords 
a striking exemplification of divine fidelity and purity, 
and of the harmony and success of all the designs of 
God. Whatever is difficult and obscure, this is plain 
and luminous: whatever in Providence is calculated to 
impress awe and terror, this excites onlj^ the emotions 
of admiration and delis^ht. 

It is pleasant to observe, amid the caprices, and the 
fluctuations, of human purposes, the undivided, and 
unshaken plans of Jehovah, hastening with undevia-^ 
ting perseverance to their completion. Man commen* 
ces operations to-day, which he abandons to-morrow. 
Either the difficulties that present themselves are in- 
surmountable, or he is weary of the length of way 
which is between him and the attainment of his wish- 
es, or some new object is started, or he is interrupted 
by death: from some cause or other, it is seldom that 
his purpose is accomplished. He began to build, but 
either he had not counted the cost, or not well chosen 
the ground, or through lack of materials, or workmen, 
the tools fell from his hand, and the unfinished edifice 
stands a lasting monument of the folly, the poverty, 
or the caprice, of the architect. It is not so with the 
Deity. No difficulty can impede his designs: he com- 
mands, and the mountain becomes a plain. No length 
of time, can frustrate his wishes: for time is swallow- 
ed up before him. That which his will purposes, is, 
in his estimation, accomplished: for, to him, the dis- 
tance between the plan and its execution, is annihila- 
ted. A thousand "years with the Lord are as one 



J 



265 

viay-^ — "a thousand ages, as yesterday when itir> past,'' 
No new object can distract his attention, and lead him 
aside from his original purpose: for "he is of one mind, 
and who can turn him?" and ''he seeth the end from 
the beginning." Death cannot interrupt his opera- 
tions: for with him is "neither beginning of days nor 
end of life." He counts the cost, and lays the foun- 
dation of the edifice, deep and lasting: he furnishes 
materials, and raises up workmen to prosecute his de- 
signs; and although these "cannot continue by reason 
of death," as they drop the tools, he puts them into 
the hands of others! One strikes a blow or two with 
the hammer, and drives a nail: another spreads the 
mortar, places "one stone upon another," leaves it to 
cement, and falls asleep: a third pursues the process; 
and amid the removal of the laborers, the building of 
God continues to rise, till "the topstone is brought 
forth with shouting." 

It is pleasant to see the Deity superintending, the de- 
liberations of those who acknowledge him not, and 
from their chaos causing a beautiful creation to spring 
to light. In the midst of senates, of privy councils, 
and of camps, the invisible God presides. The con- 
queror knows him not, and the assembly think not of 
him, who is in the midst of them. Short-sighted and 
bewildered in their plans, their schemes are dictated 
by the exigencies of the moment: but he is making 
them the instruments of fulfilling his pleasure. They 
wish to shake the power of this and that empire, 
to check the insolent rapacity of an unprincipled ty- 
rant, to extend their own political interests, or to add 
such a tract of country, and such a distant possession, 
to their own dominion. They form alliances, and 

34 



266 

project enterprises: he sanctions, or crushes, these, as 
he sees fit — still pursuing his own eternal purposes. 

It is pleasant to see the gradual developement of 
his plans, and the regular succession of events, which 
accomplish them. He is '^a God of order, and not of 
confusion." Nothing is premature, nothing is retarded, 
nothing is out of place. All is concord, co-operation, 
utility, beauty, stability. 

It will be pleasant hereafter to see the accomplish- 
ment of the whole scheme. So transient is our present 
existence, that a very small portion of the divine plans 
can fall within its narrow compass. In a few instances, 
like the present, the records of truth enable us to form 
some conception of the operaitions of God, and the his- 
tory is the counterpart of the prediction. But when 
we shall have subdued our enemies, and completed our 
wanderings in the wilderness: when we shall have 
passed Jordan, and taken possession of our heavenly 
Canaan: we shall compare the prediction, the event, 
and its consequences together: and with Abraham, 
Isaac, and Jacob, raise the shout of triumph in the 
kingdom of God! 



LECTURE X. 

THE GOVERNMENT OF THE JEWS— INCLUDING 
THE THEOCRACY AND MONARCHY, TO THE 
BUILDING OF SOLOMON'S TEMPLE: WITH A 
CONFIRMATION OF SOME SUBORDINATE FACTS* 

1 Sam. viii, 6—10 & 19, 20. 
But the thing displeased Samuel, when they said, 
give us a king to judge us: and Samuel prayed 
unto the Lord; And the Lord said unto Samuel, 
Hearken unto the voice of the people in all that 
they say unto thee: for they have not rejected thee, 
hut they have rejected Me, that I shoidd not reign 
over them. According to aU the works which they 
have done since the day that I brought them up 
out of Egypt, even unto this day, wherewith they 
have forsaken me, and served other gods; so do 
they also unto thee. Now therefore hearken unto 
their voice: howbeit, yet protest solemnly unto them, 
and shew them the manner of the king that shall 
reign over than. And Samuel told all the words of 
the Lord unto the people, that asked of him a king, 

Nevertheless, the people refused to obey the 

voice of Samuel; and they said. Nay, but we will 
have a king over us: That we also may belike all 
the nations, and that our king may judge us, and 
go out before us, and fight our battles. 

ACTS VII. 44 — 48. 
Our Fathers had the Tabernacle of tmtness in the 
wilderness, as he had appointed, speaking unf€i 



268 

Moses, that he should make it according to the 
fashion that he had seen. Which also our fathers 
that came after, brought in with Jesus into fhepos- 
session of the Gentiles, whom God drave out before 
the face of our fathers, unto the days of David, 
Who found favor before God, and desired to find 
a tabernacle for the God of Jacob. But Solomon 
built him an house. Hovcbeit the Most High 
dwelleth not in temples made with hands. 

iiEB. XI, 32—34. 
And what shall I more say? for the time would fail 
me to tell of Gideon, and of Barak, and of Samp- 
son, and ofJepthce, of David also, and Samuel, and 
of the prophets. Who through faith subdued king- 
dams, wrought righteousness, obtained promises^ 
stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of 
fire, escaped the edge of the S'iwrd, out of weakness 
were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, turned to 
flight the armies of the aliens. 

WHATEVER be tlie views of man respecting the 
veracity of the scriptures, it must be admitted that the 
subjects of which they treat, and upon which they 
promise elucidation, are to the last degree inter- 
esting and important. If there be a God, it is of 
the first consequence, that we should understand our 
relation to hi nij the duties which we owe him, and 
the service which he requires. The question whether 
revelation has given us just views on this subject, 
cannot be solved, except it be in the fust instance se- 
riously received, and cautiously examined; and pro- 
fessing to give us decisive information upon these 
points, it demands respect; it should awaken interest. 



269 

it should promote inquiry, and the investigation of 
its claims, ought to be conducted under the influeiK c 
of a sincere desire to serve the cause of truth. Ab it 
is professedly the production of men of real genius, 
and displays eloquence and beauty which extort un- 
willing praise from the lips of its adversaries, it ought 
not to be treated either with indifference or with con- 
tempt. The wisdom manifested, and the good pro- 
posed in it, are vastly above ridicule. While it profess- 
es to be the word of God, and till the contrary be in- 
contestably proved, it should be approached wdth res- 
pect; and as the subjects it proposes are inseparably 
connected with our peace, it should be examined with 
care. It is exceedingly absurd to prejudge a cause which 
w^e have not tried, and to condemn a book w^hich we 
have not read. And yet it is more than probable that 
the larger number of the opponents of revelation, have 
not taken the trouble to examine its contents, much 
less to weigh its evidences. What then are we to 
think of a man who could sit down to refute a book, 
w4iich from his own confession he had not read for 
years; and which, if we may form a judgment upon 
his injurious and profane production, he had never 
consulted with attention? When he had occasion to 
refer to its compositions, not possessing a Bible of his 
o\vn, and not w^illing to re examine the production 
which he so virulently, and on such slender ground, 
condemned, he w^as compelled to substitute a 
poetical paraphrase for the simple language of the 
scriptures! Js this candor? Is this liberality? Is this 
fair and impartial criticism? If it be, may infidelity ever 
enjoy the triumph of possessing it: we neither envy, nor 
desire to share such honors: we are satisfied that the 
glory shall be all' their own. If we would find out truth, 



27Q 

the pretensions of this book must be fairly examined, 
and that examination should be made with a mind re- 
moved as remotely as possible, from the influence of 
prejudice. Wherever the truth shall eventually be 
found to lie, its cause will not have been served by 
those on either side, who have prosecuted their re- 
searches with indolence, or drawn their conclusions 
without candor. 

The present Lecture is a resting-point, and from its 
nature, induces us to survey the ground which we have 
already trodden. We have advanced stepby step through 
the Jewish history, from the calling of their great pro- 
genitor Abraham, to their complete establishment in 
Canaan. What important lessons arise out of this 
long chain of historical events! what examples of pie- 
ty! what trials of patience! what exercises of faith! 
what elucidations of providence! what evidences of 
divine veracity! Abraham received the promise of a 
son at the advanced age of an hundred years; and the 
accomplishment of the prediction was the dawn of the 
fidelity of God. When this patriarch died, he left 
behind him, for his son, no inheritance in Canaan, ^'no, 
not so much as to set his foot on" — the ''cave of the 
field of Machpeiah" excepted; and that, he held by 
purchase, and not as the gift of heaven. Did this ap- 
pear like the possession of the promised land by his 
descendants? Yet in tracing successive events through 
all their windings, revelation has furnished us with 
decisive ev idences as the result of our inquiries, that 
all these promises were fulfilling in their order, and 
that they actually did receive their complete accom- 
plishment. Through the envy of his brethren the fa- 
vorite son of Jacob was sold into Egypt. By a most 
extraordinary combination of events, the little Hebrew 
captive was seated upon the throne of the kingdom^ 



271 

next to the monarch himself. A famine prevailing in 
Canaan drove bis relatives into Egypt. There he had 
an opportunity of making himself known to those 
who had so grievously persecuted him; and his father, 
partly urged by necessity, and strongly impelled by 
parental affection, went down, with all his household, 
and settled in Egypt. This was the third generation 
from Abraham. The lapse of years swept them all 
away; and, according to ttie prediction, his ''seed be- 
came strangers in a strange land.'' As it had been 
foretold, their bondage was most severe and cruel; and 
at the exact period of time fixed, under the conduct of 
Moses, they were delivered from their servitude. 
Many years were spent in wandering through the wil- 
derness: till at length, the delay occasioned by their 
transgressions being removed, they obtained possession 
of Canaan. At this point are we arrived; and the in- 
ferences deducible from this series of history are obvi- 
ous, and important. It is evident that he '^sees the 
end from the beginning,'^ who predicted the establish- 
ment of the Israelites in Canaan, four hundred years 
before it took place, and at a time when every thing 
appeared to oppose the designs of Deity, and to con 
spire to shake the faith of Abraham. We have seen 
positive good arising out of apparent evil, and the pur- 
poses of God accomplished by the most unlikely in- 
struments. We are certain, admitting the statement 
of facts as laid down in the scriptures, that there is a 
God that ruleth in the earth; and that no hand, but 
the hand of Omnipotence, could have brought events 
so extraordinary to pass. We have seen every thing 
give way before a people conducted by the agency of 
heaven; and are led irresistibly to conclude, that the 
time, the manner, the instruments, were all selected 



272 

and ordained, by the most consummate wisdom. We 
are taught never to despair when we have a divine 
leader, never to murmur when events seem adverse to 
our expectations, never to waver when the promise 
appears remote in its accomplishment, and never to 
draw conclusions till Deity has completed his designs. 
If the consideration of these facts, shall have strength- 
ened the faith of one Christian, or furnished a single 
solution of the mysteries of Providence, we shall not 
have recited the Jewish history in vain. 

A new path is marked out for us this evening. We 
have not to lead your attention through a long suc- 
cession of historical events, so much as to enter into a 
necessary discussion of the government of the Jews, 
connected remotely with some general passages of 
their later chronicles, and immediately, with that great 
event, the building of tUeir splendid temple, one of the 
wondei's of the world: The subject stands thus worded 
in the list — the government of the jews — includ- 
ing THE theocracy, AND MONARCHY, TO THE BUILD- 
ING OF Solomon's temple; to which we shall sub- 
join A CORROBORATION OF SOME SUBORDINATE FACTS, 

not of sutricient importance to demand a separate 
Lecture. W'e begin with 

I. THE THEOCRACY OF THE JEWS. 

An inquiry into the rise of government, and a sur- 
vey of the gradual advance of power, is neither unin- 
teresting, nor unnecessary, in the Lecture of this even 
ing. 

The first form of government appears to have been 
THE PARENTAL, and THE PATRIARCHAL. The father 
had a natural claim upon the affections and the obe- 
dience of his children. They were united to him bv 



J 



271 

sacred and indissoluble ties. Man is not happy alone: 
in every period of life he stands connected with others; 
and his interests are linked with theirs. In society 
theie must be an head, a leader, a guide, to whom the 
eye can look up, and upon whom the heart can rely. 
In the earliest state of nature man felt the force of this 
truth; and who could appear to him so suited for this 
office, and so capable of this responsibility, as the 
friend, and the "guide of his youth?" Where 
could they select one so attached to their persons, to 
their interests, and to their general welfare? The bonds 
of nature were strengthened by those of the judgment 
and its obligations confirmed by choice. The decis- 
ions of the heart were ratified by the conviction of the 
understanding; and in those early ages, the characters 
of the parent, and of the patriarch, were blended. 
Their children yielded reverence to their age, ti^^'ch- 
ment to their tenderness, and obedience to their requi- 
sitions. Then the parent was the priest, and the king, 
of his family. His wife, his children, liis servants, all 
looked up to him as their natural and legitimate ruler, 
and his authority was not disputed. Behold him 
kneeling before the common altar, with hallowed 
hands stretched towards heaven, imploring family, and 
individual, mercies! Did the demon of discord creep in 
among them? and were the marks of dissatisfaction, 
alienation, and disunion imprinted upon their counte- 
nances? they laid their differences at his paternal feet, 
and from his decision they made no appeal. Provi- 
dence conspired with nature to compel them to hold 
the will of a parent sacred; and the punishment of 
Cain, the disobedient and the murderer, would ever 
be before the eyes of the first race of mankind. Even 
in a later age, Esau, abandoned as he was to work all 
35 



272 

iniquity with greediness, and deterred by no sense of 
shame from the commission of evil, when he had it in 
his heart to murder his brother, resolved to wait till 
the days of mourning for his father should be accom- 
plished, who apparently was gradually sinking into 
the grave. This fratricide in his heart dared not to 
perpetrate his horrible design under the paternal roof, 
and before his father's face. The sons of Jacob, when 
they sold their brother, presumed not to enter into their 
father's presence, but with a tale to deceive him: they 
did not dare to risk the dreadful crime of bringing 
•down his gray hairs with sorrow to the grave, openly 
and avowedly. And time aided these impressions of 
reverence which nature dictated, and Providence con- 
firmed, and custom established. In that early period, 
when the years of a man's life were extended to so 
great i length, the exercise of parental authority reach- 
ed to several generations. Paternal dignity acquired 
strength by years. The most tender affections were 
chastened by the most awful respect. The younger 
laid their hand upon their mouth, and were silent be- 
fore venerable age; and they said, "Days should speak, 
and the multitude of years should teach wisdom." 
Blessed rule! which perpetually held in view the inter- 
ests of those who voluntarily submitted to its direc- 
tions. Blessed government! where the father was the 
prince, where parental affection softened patriarchal 
authority, and where filial love was blended with 
cheerful submission, and with respectful obedience. 
Blessed times! when the interests of men were one and 
undivided, and when no arbitrary and cruel despot- 
ism blotted the primeval reign. Happy are those 
countries, which like our own, approach the nearest to 
this picture of ancient simplicity in their government: 



275 

where authority suppresses anarchy, where liberty 
limits power, and where the prince, consulting only 
the interests, reigns always in the hearts of his willing 
and obedient people! 

As men multiplied upon the face of the earth, the 
relations of human life branched into various, and 
widely-extended ramifications. The field of author- 
ity became every day larger; and in a family which 
once was one, but now Wds divided into many, some 
were found who would not bow to patriarchal restraint: 
of course, as in the present day, there were distinct 
heads to separate families, and a form of government 
was wanting which should embrace the whole. Here 
was a scene opened to ambition! The man of bold, 
daring, enterprising genius, pressed on to gain the dan- 
gerous summit of pre-eminence over his brethren. 
After the flood we first read of Nimrod. Whether 
he were a tyrant or not, according to our usage of the 
word, has been the subject of much discussion; and 
the scriptural account of him is too short to admit the 
question to be decided with any degree of precision. 
It is clear, however, that by some means he acquired 
a considerable ascendency over his brethren; and '^be- 
gan to be great in the earth. He is the same with 
Belus, who was afterwards worshipped as a God un- 
der that name." He was the grandson of Noah, and 
is termed in the scriptures "a mighty hunter before 
the Lord." By this laborious exercise, probably, he 
gained the affections of the people, in delivering them 
from the dangers arising from the too great increase 
of beasts of prey; while, at the same moment, he train- 
ed up the young men "to endure hardness." The ha- 
bitual command which on these occasions he assumed, 
and the habits of obedience which they acquired^ 



276 

probably, enabled him to establish, and to maintain, 
the unbounded authority which he, at length exercised. 
It is said that "he began to be mighty in the earth;" 
by which phrase we are probably to understand, that 
he procured himself settlements, founded cities, blend- 
ed different families, united the people under his own 
authority, and moulded them into one state. His 
original dominion was bounded by the Euphrates and 
the Tigris: but in the revolution of years, and by 
gradual acquisitions, it was much enlarged, and be- 
came one of the four great empires of the world. 
Babylon was the seat of his kingdom: afterwards he 
built Nineveh, which he so denominated from his son 
Ninus, and laid the foundation of the Assyrian em- 
pire.* Thus the patriarchal government became 

MONARCHICAL. 

But men began to forsake the precepts delivered to 
them by llieir fathers, and to deny, or to forget, the 
God who made them. The confusion of tongues 
separated and scattered the people, and this dispersion 
was the origin of nations. When idolatry had spread 
itself extensively, perhaps we might say universally, it 
pleased Godto call Abraham, and to choose his family, 
and his descendants, as his own peculiar people. 
This nation was selected as a public evidence of the 
existence, and of the providence of God — was set up 
as a perpetual admonition to the world. We have 
seen them crowned with visible prosperity under his 
extraordinary guardianship: and we have contemplat- 
ed singular, and public manifestations, of the divine 
interposition in their favor. Should any be disposed 
to question the fact of this choice, and of this guar- 

* See Roilin'5 Anc. Hist. vol. ii, p. 178, &c. 



i 



234 

dianship, they must be silenced by the demonstration 
of the same providence, and of the same care, exci iej 
in favor of the same people, to the present hour. Af- 
ter a dispersion of eighteen centuries over the face of 
the whole earth, held every where in contempt, exist- 
ing in a state of the most abject ignominy, they still 
remain, in incredible numbers, unmixed with, although 
subsisting in the midst of, all other nations, and totally 
distinct and separate from all the inhabitants of the 
globe. And while this undeniable fact is a decisive 
proof of the divine choice of them as a people, this ex- 
traordinary interposition of Heaven on their behalf, is 
also a standing miracle in favor of revelation. They 
have been harassed, detested, persecuted, massacred 
in all countries, by all ranks: yet have they seen the 
rise, and the fall, of many imperial nations, which held 
them in servitude, and which shook the oppressor's 
rod over their head; and in this forlorn, wandering, 
wretched, and apparently abandoned state, they re- 
main a people, and a great people. 

From this choice, and upon the deliverance of 
Israel from Egypt, arose the Mosaic or Levitical 
dispensation; and the government under this dis- 
pensation was a THEOCRACY. This term is compound- 
ed of two Greek words Qto; God, and K§«7iw to govern; 
and implies that the Jews were immediately under the 
authority of God as their king. To elucidate this as- 
sertion we remark, that, in three distinct views, God 
may be considered as the God of the Hebrews: 

1. As the great Parent of all men — the Ruler of the 
hearts, the properties, the lives, and the affairs of the 
creation at large, and of the Jews as a part of the 
creation. This is a relation which he bears to them 
in common with all the world. Hence he required of 
the Israelites all the duties of the light of nature, and 



278 

of the moral law, which binds all mankind as well as 
themselves, and extends through every dispensation. 

2. As the God of Israel peculiarly, as a visible and 
outward church, whom he had selected, and separa- 
ted from all other nations, to be his own peculiar peo- 
ple. Hence he prescribed forms and modes of wor- 
ship: he instituted ceremonies and rites of religion, by 
which their devotional exercises were regulated, as 
tokens of their duty, and of his relation to them, as a 
chosen and distinct people. 

3. Js their proper and only King, as a nation. 
Hence he gave them judicial and political laws, rela- 
ting to their government, their constitution, and the 
several relations and branches of society. Whoever 
will review with attention the Mosaic law, will find 
that there are not only moral obligations laid down, 
but ceremonial and ritual observances prescribed; and 
these again are connected with political and judicial 
commands: so that it is evident that the Jews were as 
much under the direction of Heaven in their civil, as 
in their religious laws and institutions. Hence there 
are four words, which are frequently deemed synony- 
mous, but which in the scriptures have very distinct 
significations — ''statutes, commandments, judgments, 
and testimonies" — and these set the several relations of 
God to the Jews, and particularly the theocracy, in a 
clear point of view. 

"Statutes," were such institutions as had their 
foundation in the will and pleasure of God as a Sove- 
reign, and for wiiich no particular reason on any 
other ground could be assigned: such as *^'not to sow 
two seeds of different kinds together." 

'^Commandments," were moral duties, for which 
the reasons were manifest, such as '*not to steal" 



279 

^^JuDGMENTS," wcre the laws belonging to cMl 
government, in things between nnan and man: such as 
are laid down in Exodus, the twenty-first and the fol- 
lowing chapters, 

"Testimonies," were such laws as preserved the 
remembrance of some great events, and iesfified to the 
peculiar goodness of God: such as the sabbath, the 
passover, and all the feasts. 

In giving his last charge to his son Solomon, David 
enumerates these several branches of divine jurisdic- 
tion: "keep the charge of the Lord thy God, to walk 
in his ways, to keep his statutes, and his command- 
ments, and his judgments, and his testimonies, as 
it is written in the law of Moses." And thus was the 
relation of God to Israel, not merely a common one, 
such as he bears to all men: but a peculiar one, such 
as he never had to any people, themselves excepted. 

That such a connexion did subsist between God 
and Israel, is clearly deducible from the epithets be- 
stowed upon that nation, throughout the scriptures. 
Because he singled them out from all other nations, he 
is expressly said to choose them. "The Lord had a 
delight in thy fathers, and he chose their seed after 
them, even you, above all people*." 

In consequence of this selection, he brought them 
up out of the land of Egypt, and they are said to have 
been delivered!, saved :j:, purcuasedH, PvEdeemed^, 

He is said to call them: "When Israel was a child, 
then I loved him, and called my son out of Egypt§." 

He is said to create them, to give them lipe, to 
have begotten them**. 

• Deut. X. 15. II Deut. xxxii. 6. 
t Exod, iii. 8- 1[ Deut. vii. 8. 

♦ Deut. sxxiii. 29. § Hosea, xi. 1. 

•* Is. xliii. 1. 7. Ezek. xvi. 3. Deut. xxxli, IS- 



280 

He is called their father. "Do ye thus requite the 
Lord, O foolish people and unwise? is not he thy 
Father that hath bought thee? hath he not made 
thee, and established theef?" 

These several scriptural terms imply a peculiar re- 
lation, a connexion far more intimate than the com- 
mon relation of God to the creation at large, and to- 
tally distinct from it. 

Under the theocracy, rulers were appointed: but 
these were selected by God himself, as may be observ- 
ed in respect of all the judges; and they did nothing 
but expi'essly under divine commission. In every 
movement, and in every plan, the will of God was 
consulted. The theocracy commenced with Moses, and 
closed with Samuel, after having subsisted through a 
period of four hundred and seventy-six years. 

The rule of Samuel, as an elder of Israel, lasted 
twenty-one years, at the close of which time old age 
stole upon him, and wishing to relinquish the cares of 
government, or at least to divide them, a portion of 
his authority was vested in the person of his sons, and 
they became judges. So far from copying the inflex- 
ible integrity of their father, we fmd them delineated 
in all the features of covetousness and of oppression: 
they ''took bribes," arid ^'perverted judgment." For 
a season the Israelites patiently endured their wrongs: 
but at length their spirit was stirred within them to re- 
sist and to crush this tyranny. The blameless method 
of doing this, had been to make their appeal to their 
divine Monarch, and to have entreated Samuel, under 
the direction of heaven, to elect other, and upright 
rulers. But instead of this, they rejected the divine 

t Deut. xxxilj 6, 8tc. 



281 

authority, so far as their power extended, they insisted 
upon an intire new form of government, and resolved, 
like other nations, to have "a king to reign overthem.'^ 
Deity granting them their wishes, the theocracy ceas- 
ed, and their government became monarchical.* Our 
next object in this Lecture is to present some account 
of 

11. THE MONARCHY OF THE JEWS. 

The princes of Israel possessed great power, and in 
later ages, before the coming of Christ, it was exceed- 
ingly abused, as in the case of Ahab, Manasseh, and 
several others. 

It is evident that this change in the government was 
displeasing to God: for it is said, ^'He gave them a 
king in his anger, and took him away in his wrath;'' 
and it is an inquiry worthy attention, what was the 
ground of this displeasure? I conceive that it was not 
the change of government as it respects the nomina- 
tion of a king instead of a ruler, but the choosing of a 
king so far as in their power, to the exclusion of God; 
and on this principle he said to Samuel, "They have 
not rejected thee, but they have rejected ME^ that / 

• When we speak of the termination of tlie theocracy with Samuel, 
and at the commencement of the monarchy, we do not mean to insinuate, 
that the divine superintendence of the affairs of the Jewish nation ceas- 
ed, or that God was less their governor, or that his relation to them was 
less intimate, and peculiar, than before. The fact is, their very kings 
were merely rulers of a different description, subjected to the same con- 
trol, and held by the same authority, as the judges under the theocra- 
cy. Hence we see one rejected, and another chosen, one set up and 
another cast down, and the hand of God every where, in the whole ma- 
chine of the Israelites* government, directing, regulating, and giving im- 
pulse to every wheel, every spring, every movement. Nor has his pe- 
culiar relation to the Jews, his immediate superintendence of their con- 
cerns, and his miraculous guardianship of their persons, and of their in- 
terests, terminated to this hour. All that we mean to convey is, that 
the theocracy ceased to be the external and ostensible government of the 
Jews: that continuing to exist, it was in a different shape; and that as it 
respects its form, their executive power Uecame monarchical^ 

86 



£82 

should not reign over them." Their criminality con- 
sisted in placing a man on the throne of the Deity, 
and in exalting a creature to the seat, which had, till 
that time, been occupied only by the Creator. Not 
any form of government is opposed in this declara- 
tion: but its force is directed against the presumption 
of the Israelites in rejecting a divine Governor. Their 
situation was peculiar — was unlike that of all other 
nations; and they were not at liberty, on just princi- 
pies, to make so material an alteration in their gov- 
ernment without first consulting God, and having the 
sanction of his authority. So far from consulting him, 
it appears from the whole history, that they insisted up- 
on having a king, in opposition to the divine will, and in 
defiance of all the consequences which Samuel foretold. 
At the expiration of the theocracy, Saul was pri* 
vately anointed king, and afterwards publicly pro- 
claimed at Mizpeh. From the time of his anointing, 
to his death in Gilboa, he reigned over Israel forty 
years. It would not be consistent either with our 
purpose, or with the time usually allotted to these ex- 
ercises, to enter into a minute detail of the events of 
his reign. He drew upon himself the displeasure of 
God, by disobeying his express command, in relation 
to the extermination of the Amalekites, whom he had, 
at the time when they opposed Israel in the wilder- 
ness, devoted to utter destruction. From this period 
to the end of his reign, he is presented to us as an ob- 
ject of pity! It is said, "the spirit of God forsook him, 
and an evil spirit troubled him.'' It is probable that 
we are to understand by these terms, that the immedi- 
ate direction which he was accustomed to receive from 
God Was withdrawn— "The Lord answered him neith- 
er by prophets nor by dreams:'' that his wisdom and 



283 

prudence forsook him: that he was subject to a wear- 
ing, melancholy disorder: that he was given up to his 
evil passions and inclinations; and that a spirit of en- 
vy, hatred, and cruelty, took place of a spirit of up- 
rightness, candor, and mercy. Perhaps actual posses- 
sion of an evil spirit, such as those so clearly proved in 
the days of Christ, is to be understood. Josephus so 
considers it, and describes its operations as superin- 
ducing a sensation of suffocation, resembling those 
emotions which the evangelists describe as attending 
demoniacal influences: at least a species of madness 
seems intended. David was early introduced at court 
he had previously been anointed king in private in 
place of Saul; and while his amiable qualities and his 
valor in vanquishing Goliah, drew upon him the affec- 
tions of the people, they excited the fears, and the ha- 
tred, of the jealous monarch, who persecuted him even 
to the extremities of his kingdom, and aimed at noth- 
ing less than his destruction. While the father was 
seeking the life of this amiable young man, his son was 
attached to him by the most sincere affection, and 
"Jonathan loved David as his own soul." Never was 
the influence, the delicacy, the beauty of friendship, 
painted by so masterly an hand, as that of the sacred 
historian on this occasion. To read it unmoved, is to 
carry in one's bosom a rock of adamant, and not an 
heart of flesh; and to attempt to heighten its effect, 
would be as futile and as absurd as to think of adding 
brighter and softer colors to the radiance, with which 
the pencil of nature paints the west at sun- set. 

Saul at length fell in the field of battle against the 
Philistines at Gilboa, and (O, the ravages of war!) in 
the same unhappy conflict, Jonathan perished also.* 

See note 1, of this Lecture, at the end of the volume. 



224 

It was upon this melancholy occasion, that his snrviv^ 
ing friend wrote that affecting lamentation, which has 
been the admiration of ages. 

"O beauty of Israel, slain upon thy own mountains! 
How are the mighty fallen! Tell it not in Gath, pub- 
lish it not in the streets of Askelon: lest the daughters 
of the Philistines rejoice, lest the daughters of the un- 
circumcised triumph. Ye mountains of Gilboa, on 
you be neither dew, nor rain, nor fields affording obla- 
tions; for there the shield of the mighty is vilely cast 
away, the shield of Saul, the armor of the anointed 
with oil.t Fiom the blood of the slain, from the 
slaughter of the mighty, the bow of Jonathan was not 
withheld, and the sword of Saul never returned in 
vain. Saul and Jonathan were lovely and pleasant in 
their lives, and in their death they were not divided; 
they were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than 
lions. Ye daughters of Israel, weep over Saul, who 
clothed you in scarlet with delights, who put orna- 
ments of gold on your apparel. How are the mighty 
fallen ih the midst of the battle! O Jonathan, slain 
upon thine own mountains! I am distressed for thee, 
my brother Jonathan! very pleasant hast thou been 
unto me! Thy love to me was wonderfull surpassing 
the love of women! How have the mighty fallen! 
How have the weapons of war perished!" 

David succeeded to the throne of his kingdom, and 
through a period of forty (or if you reckon from the 
time in which he was anointed, forty eight) years, he 
resigned beloved by the people, and distinguished by 
Divine favor. Few characters discover so complete 
a combination of excellence and of defect as that of 
David. Yet, from first to last, you may trace the 

j: See note 2, of this Lecture, at llie end of the volume. 



285 

«n1an after God's own heart,'^ humble, contrite, affec- 
tionate, and sincere! Few reigns have discovered great- 
er fluctuations of triumph and of affliction Amid the 
glory to which the Israelites were rising under his 
rule, and the zenith of which they had nearly attain- 
ed, his life was chequered by trial. He was surround- 
ed by enemies, and engaged in almost perpetual war- 
fare. His domestic peace was destroyed, by the dis- 
honor of his daughter, and by the slaughter of his son 
who effected it. He was driven from his kmgdom 
by the rebellion of Absalom. A pestilence of three 
days ravaged his empire, and destroyed seventy thou- 
sand persons. And the last moments of a turbulent 
life, were disturbed, and embittered, by the conspira- 
cy of his son Adonijah against Solomon, whom he 
had nominated as his successor. 

Before his death, David had formed the design of 
building a temple to God, which was realized by Sol- 
omon. He had prepared most of the materials, had 
drawn up the plan according to Divine instructions, 
and left full and clear directions to his son respecting 
it. We entreat your attention, for a few moments, 
prior to our enlargement on this purpose, till we bring- 
down the monarchy to its close. In the days of Re- 
hoboam, the kingdom of Israel was divided; and two 
distinct lines of kings succeeded to the thrones of Ju- 
dah and of Israel. According to the prediction of Ja- 
cob, the ''sceptre did not depart from Judah, nor a 
lawgiver from beneath his feet, till Shiloh came." 
The ten tribes of Israel were carried away captive, and 
have not been heard of from that time to this hour: 
but the sceptre remained with Judah to the coming of 
Christ. In the days of the Savior the throne was fil- 
led by Herod, who held his power under the Roman 



286 

emperor; and soon after the ascension of our Lord, 
the city of Jerusalem was taken, their temple destroy- 
ed, and they themselves dispersed. From that period, 
they have wandered over the face of the whole earth, 
"without a king," without a temple, "without an 
ephod," without a lawgiver, '-without a sacrifice," 
and shall continue to do so, till they acknowledge 
Messiah the prince, and say — ''Blessed is he that com- 
eth in the name of the Lord!" 

From the days of Jesus, the kingdom of David has 
been changed into a spiritual kingdom — a kingdom 
not possessing worldly splendor, neither supported 
by temporal power. It has resisted every attack, it 
has extended over many nations, it must swallow up 
every empire, it will diffuse itself wide as the world. 
We must contemplate briefly, 

III. THE BUILDING OF SOLOMON'S TEMPLE. 

During the theocrary, the worship of God was con- 
ducted in a moveable tabernacle, constructed after the 
pattern drawn up by God himself, and communicated 
to Moses in the wilderness: nor was any change intro- 
duced into this mode of worship, till the prosperous 
and glorious reign of Solomon. Till the fgovernment 
of the Jews became an established monarchy, no ideas 
were entertained of a national temple. It rested with 
' David to form, with the Deity to approve, and with 
Solomon to execute, this magnificent design. Neither 
labor, nor expense, were spared, in the erection of this 
grand building, confessedly the most splendid edifice 
upon which the sun ever shone. For a minute delin- 
eation of this stupendous work, we must refer you to 
the scriptures themselves; and we have little difficulty 
in confirming the fidelity of the sacred narrative on this 



28? 

subject. The fact of the existence and the grandeur 
of this edifice, is indisputable. It must have been 
known, while it w^as building, to all the world; for 
the report of such a design would spread through all 
nations. It was known at Tyre, because they fur- 
nished workmen in the most beautiful and delicate 
parts of the structure. It was known to the queen of 
Sheba, who came to be an eye-witness of the wisdom 
and of the glory of Solomon. It was known at Bab- 
ylon, by the report of the armies of Nebuchadnezzar. 
"After Solomon's temple was built, the temple of 
Vulcan in Egypt, and others in different places, were 
founded in imitation of it: just as the oracles of the 
heathens were imitations of the divine communications 
made to Israel."* The temple of Solomon, erected 
according to the scriptural account, must be admitted 
as an indisputable fact. The glory of this temple was 
soon extinguished; and after its destruction the Jew^s 
built another, inferior to the former in magnificence: 
which also has sunk under the ravages of war, and 
with that whole dispensation, has yielded to a purer, 
yet less bplendi J, order of worship. 

''Howbeit the Most High dwelleth not in temples 
made with hands:" neither is his presence confined to 
a single world. To the limited capacity of man, a 
kingdom is a large possession, a world is an object of 
infinite importance. Could he ascend to the next 
planet, he would look down upon it as a shining 
spark, amid myriads of others, scattered through the 
regions of space. Were the presence of the Deity 
confined to this globe, who . ^ould renew the blunted 
horns of the moon? Who would balance yonder 
wandering worlds? Who would supply the sun with 
light? Who would feed the everlasting fues of those 

• Bishop Watson's Theological Tracts, vol. v, p. 9.7. 



288 

remote orbs, the suns of other worlds, and the centres 
of others ystems? Who would diffuse glory and felic- 
ity through the heaven of heavens? That quickening 
presence, that powerful hand, that unsearchable wis- 
dom, that unwearied goodness, that infinite Being, is 
needed every where at the same moment; is adored 
through all his works; is felt at the same time sustain- 
ing the whole univeriie; and surely ''the Most High 
dwelleth not in temples made with hands." It re* 
mains that we now corroborate 

IV. SOME SUBORDINATE SCRIPTURE FACTS. 

— ^To which, however interesting, we cannot afford in 
our plan, the labor and time of a separate Lecture; 
and which may with propriety be noticed here. 

We have passed over the book of Judges, because 
it was not immediately connected with the larger 
events proposed for consideration: but the facts con- 
tained in that instructive series of narration, are equally 
authenticated by foreign testimonies. It will be neces- 
sary also to anticipate some other subordinate facts, 
subsequent in point of time to the subjects discussed 
this evening, that the thread of those which remain 
may not be broken, nor more serious and important 
inquiries interrupted. 

The memorial of the actions of Gideon is preserved 
by Sanchoniathon, a Tyrian writer, who lived not 
long after him, and whose antiquity is attested by Por- 
phyry. 

From the manner of Jepthae's devoting his daughter, 
after his victory over the Ammonites, arose the story 
of the sacrifice of Iphigenia: it being usual with the 
heathens as ^lian observes, to attribute to their later 



289 

liei^oes, the glory of the actions of those who lived long 
before.* 

Ovid has transmitted to us the account of a feast 
observed by the ancient Romans in April, the time of 
the Jewish harvest; in which they let loose foxes with 
torches fastened to their tails, t Can we doubt that 
this certainly originated in the history of Sampson? 
and that it was brought into Italy by the Phenicians? 
May we not also conclude, that from the treachery 
discovered in Delilah's treatment of Sampson, arose 
the history of Nisus, and of his unnatural daughter, 
who cut off those fatal hairs from the head of her 
father, upon which his victory and his security de- 
pended?J The labors of Hercules appear to be but an 
imperfect copy of the prodigious strength and valor 
of Sampson: or at least, the facts related of the one, 
probably suggested the exploits fabled of the other. 

Also in the succeeding histories of Israel and Ju- 
dah, some of the more extraordinary facts are con- 
firmed by foreign testimonies. 

The victory of David over the Syrians of Zoba, 
on the banks of the Euphrates, is preserved by Nicii- 

GLAUS DaMASCENUS. 

There are monuments extant, which certify the 
part that Hiram, king of Tyre, took in building the 
temple of Solomon. 

* M\ Varise Historic, lib. v. cap. 3. 
I Cur ig-ilur missa: vinctis ardentia t?edis 
Terga ferant vulpes, caussa docenda mihi. 

Ovid. Fast. UL iv. /. 681, &£. 

i Alcathoe, quam Nisus habet; cui splendidus ostro 

Inter honoratos medio de veriice canos 
Crinis inhzerebat, magni fiducja reg-ni. 

— ~* Tlialamos taciturna paternos 

Intrat; et (heu f acinus!) fatali nata purentem 
Crine suum spoliat. 

Ovid. Metam. lib^ vHi^ I. 8—10, et 84— 8(>, 

37 



290 

Herodotus records the taking of Jerusalem by the 
king of Egypt, as stated in the history of Rehoboam's 
reign. In tlie same writer may be traced the tradi- 
tion of the destruction of Senacherib's army, because 
of his blasphemies against God: which circumstance 
the Egyptians disguised^ as was common with them, 
to appropriate it to themselves.* 

May we not also suppose that the story of Phaeton 
originated in some imperfect tradition of the transla- 
tion of Elijah, in a chariot of fire? It is probable that 
imagination supplied the want of evidence, in the 
verses of the poets, and by their alterations and addi- 
tions, it is easy to account for the remoteness of their 
fables from this fact, to which, nevertheless, they pos- 
sibly bear a first relation. But it is difficult to imag- 
ine from what other source the tale could arise, and 
what other event would afford materials for so singu- 
lar a story, t 

The history of Jonah, and the account that he was 
miraculously preserved three days and three nights in 
the bowels of the fish, has often excited the ridicule, 
and employed the wit, of infidelity: yet it is not with- 
out its support from heathen testimonies. This singu- 
lar event is related by Lycophron, and by ^neas 
Gazeus, with this variation from the inspired writ- 
ings, that they call the prophet, Hercules. Neither 
are we to be surprised at this deviation from the his- 
toric veracity of the Bible: for Hercules was the great 
hero of the ancients; and Tacitus himself acknowledg- 
es, that to advance the fame of this distinguished fa- 
vorite, they do not hesitate to ascribe to him, whatever 

• Herod, lib. ii. cap. 141. 
I See, on these conBrniations of scriptural truth, Bisliop Watson'' 
Theological Tracts, vol. i, p. 355, 356. 



/I 



291 

is extraordinary or noble in history, to whomsoever 
the real praise is justly due. They plunder every other 
celebrated character of all his merit, to adorn their 
fabled hero with the spoils stolen from truth, and hon- 
estly belonging to others. iEneas Gazeus, in The- 
ophrastus, uses these words — '^Hercules Wfis saved by 
a w^hale swallowing him, when the ship in which he 
sailed was wrecked."* How well these circumstances, 
in their general features, accord with the punishment 
of Jonah for his disobedience, and with the fearful 
tempest which preceded it! 

Men AND ER the historian confirms, in his acts of 
Ithobal, king of Tyre, the dearth in the days of Ahab, 
king of Israel, in which Elijah was miraculously pre- 
served by the ravens, and by the widow of Zarephath, 
and says that by supplication to God it was followed 
by rain, and by much thunder. t 

Cyprian, Julian, and others, mention the fire 
which descended from heaven to consume the sacri- 
fice of Elijah, J 

It is unnecessary farther to enlarge upon these sub- 
jects: enough has already been produced, to prove to 
every unprejudiced mind, that the most trivial circum- 
stances of the sacred narrative, even those parts of it 
which might not be supposed, intimately and materi- 
ally, to affecf the truth and the influence of Christiani- 
ty, are capable of demonstration from the traditions 
of the heathen world, and from the testimony of their 
earliest writers, 

^nt/roi^iT^'X.i. Aineas GuZceus Theoplirasto. 

f jos. Antiq. Jud, Tom. I. lib. viii, cap. xiii, p. 5/8. iludsoni edit. 

+ Grot, de Verit. Rel. Christ, lib. i, sect, xvi, in not. 1U6. See also 
note 3 ot" tuis l.i'ciure, at tije end of the volume. 



292 

Brethren, we have led back your attention to the 
splendor and magnificence of former times. Upon us 
"the ends of the earth^' are come. The fathers are 
assembled in the world of spirits, and ''they without 
us cannot be made perfect." We have not seen 
"Solomon in all his glory:" but ''a greater than Solo- 
mon is here!" In all things Jesus has the pre-emi- 
nence. Was Solomon wise? Grace was poured upon 
the Savior's lips, and he was fairer than the sons of 
men! Was Solomon mighty? "All power" is given 
unto Jesus "in heaven and in earth!" Was the domin- 
ion of Solomon extensive, and his reign peaceful and 
prosperous? "The dominion" also of Jesus "is from 
sea to sea, and from the river to the ends of the earth;'' 
"and of his kingdom, and of his peace, there is no end!" 
Is the renown of Solomon immortal? Of Jesus it is 
written, "His name shall endure forever; his name 
shall be continued so long as the sun, and men shall 
be blessed in him: all nations shall call him blessed!'^ 
We have never beheld the magnificence of the temple 
of Solomon: but in the kingdom of our spiritual Solo- 
mon, is a temple not made with hands, where the ar- 
mies of the redeemed are already congregated, and 
wait our arrival. Solomon was a servant, but Jesus 
is a son — "and let the whole earth be filled, with hi^. 
glory! Amen and ameHo" 



LECTURE XI. 

THE CAPTIVITIES OF ISRAEL AND OF JUDAH, 
The first of these events is recorded in 

2 KINGS XVII, 1 — 6. 
In the twelfth year of Ahaz Icing of Judah, began 
Hoshea tlie son Elah to reign in Samaria over Israel 
nine years. And he did that which was evil in 
the sight of the Lord, but not as the kings of Israel 
that were before him. Against him came up Shot- 
maneser, king of Assyria, and Hoshea became his 
' servant J and gave him presents. And the king of 
Assyria found conspiracy in Hoshea: for he had 
sent messengers to So king of Egypt, and bi^ought 
no present to the king of Assyria, as he had done 
year by year: therefore the king of Assyria shut 
him up, and bound him in prison. Then the king 
of Assyria came up throughout all the land, and 
went up to Samaria, and besieged it three years. 
In the ninth year of Hoshea, the king of Assyria 
took Samaria, and carried Israel away into Assy- 
ria, and placed them in Halah, and in Habor by 
the river of Gozan, and in the cities of the Medes. 

The second is preserved in 

2 CHRON. xxxvi, 14 — 21. 
Moreover, all the chief of the priests, and the people 
transgressed very much, after all the abominations 
of the heathen, and polluted the house of the Lorb 



294 

which he had hallowed in Jerusalem. And the 
Lord God of their fathers sent to them by his mes- 
sengers, rising up betimes and sending; because he 
had compassion on his people, and on his dwelling- 
place: But they mocked the messengers of God, and 
despised his words, and misused his prophets, until 
the wrath of the Lord arose against his people, 
till there was no remedy. Therefore he brought 
upon them the king of the Chaldees, who slew their 
young men with the sword, in the liouse of their 
sanctuary, and had no compassion upon young 
man, or maiden, or old man, or him that stooped for 
age: he gave them all into his hand. And all the 
vessels of the house of God, great and small, and 
the treasures of the house of the Lord, and the 
treasures of tlie king, and of his princes: all these 
he brought to Babylon. And they burned the house 
of God, and brake down the wall of Jerusalem, and 
burned all the palaces thereof with fire, and de- 
stroyed all the goodly vessels thereof And them 
that had escaped from the stwrd, carried he away 
to Babylon: where tJiey were servants to him, and 
his sonSi until the reign of the kingdom of Persia: 
Tofidfil the word of t lie Lord by themoidh of Jer- 
emiah, until the land had enjoyed her sabbaths: 
for as long as she lay desolate, she kept sabbath, to 
fulfil threescore and ten years, 

THE history of empires and of people transmitted 
from generation to generation, what is it but the re- 
cord of the human heart? All the scenes of horror 
which have petrified the spectator in the city and in 
the field, were drawn first in the imagination of a de- 
praved spirit^ before they were exhibited to the world. 



295 

We contemplate with dismay a conqueror returning 
from the battle dyed in blood, and we shudder as we 
look upon the empurpled plain: but we carry within 
us, all the frightful passions which gave birth to these 
cruelties; and in our own bosom, are sown, with un- 
sparing hand, the prolific seeds, of which these tears 
and this misery are the sad harvest. The most atro- 
cious acts of violence which have disgraced society, 
were conceiv^ed in the bosom of a fellow- worm, be- 
fore they burst to light. The influence of depravity is 
felt in the world, but its spring is within us; and every 
individual bears his proportion of the hidden plague. 
In the existence of evil, and in the pressure of calamity 
upon society, we have the symptoms of it; the dis- 
ease itself is interwoven with our very being, and lurks 
unseen, while it tyrannizes unresisted, in the human 
heart. The history of nations, therefore, is but the 
history of human nature; and it presents a most af- 
fecting view of human depravity. 

It is the glory and the beauty of sacred history to 
make us acquainted with men, and to disclose to us 
human feelings. No artificial strokes are used in the 
delineation of character in this volume. No romantic, 
unnatural circumstances, are recorded as belonging to 
the individual selected to raise wonder and to lead 
captiv^e the fancy: for where miraculous events are 
asserted, we trace the finger of God, and are no lon- 
ger surprised, and they bear all the mark of matter of 
fact, for which some cause is assignable. No false 
gloss varnishes a depraved disposition. No unreal 
splendors dazzle and astonish us. All is natural; and 
feeling ourselves among our brethren in the flesh, cor- 
respondent emotions spring up within us, when we 
perceive them agitated by grief or joy; and we read 



296 

our own hearts while the narrative permits us to look 
into theirs. Whether we are overwhelmed with the 
perplexities of kingdoms, or are occasionally called to 
the field of battle; whether we witness the slaughter 
of our fellow-men, or are involved in the intrigues and 
policies of worldly courts; or whether we enter the 
tranquil bosom of a family, and share their domestic 
comforts and trials, and read in these hallowed pages 
the same scenes which pass before our eyes every day 
that we live; we mark, with equal gratification and 
advantage, the developement of the plans of Provi- 
dence, in relation both to public and domestic life; 
and deduce from it some inferences applicable to the 
dealings of God, w^ith us, as a nation, or as individu- 
als. Who can read the scriptures without feeling 
that instruction and amusement are combined? Pleasr 
ure and religious information intermingle, and are 
blended. The imagination is captivated, the hear^ is 
warmed, the judgment is enlightened^ the spirit is re- 
freshed and invigorated. 

''Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest 
he fall," is an admonition of unerring wisdom, the 
excellence of which is proved in the blotted pages of 
human apostacy. We have seen Solomon building an 
house for God, enjoying a superiority of understand- 
ing over the whole human race, exulting in divine 
intercourse, crowned with riches and with honor, and 
extending his dominion from sea to sea. Fair is the 
aspect of piety, and we hang over it, unwilling to 
withdraw our enchanted attention from it! The morn- 
ing of his day was unusually bright and promising: the 
noon became overcast; and in the evening of his life, 
his sun set enveloped with clouds, and shrouded by 
the most gloomy obscurity. It requires more than 



2m 

a common measure of grace to support uninjured the 
flatteries of prosperity: Solomon was inebriated with 
them, and fell from his exalted piety into folly, guilt, 
and consequent danger. Who does not weep to see 
the king of Israel, whose youthful wisdom drew a 
princess from her country to try the justice of his ce- 
lebrity, bowing his hoary head to the dust before a 
dumb idol, and ascribing to the work of men's hands 
the glory and the worship due only to God? Son of 
the morning, how art thou fallen! The wisdom which 
distilled from his lips, which "spake of trees from the 
cedar tree that is Lebanon, even to the hyssop which 
springethout of thewall," and the penetration of which, 
pierced through the secrets of nature — O where did it 
slumber, when he forsook the Lord God of his father 
David, and "went after Ashtoreth, the goddess of the 
Zidonians, and Milcom, the abomination of the Am- 
monites?" How worthless is "the wisdom of the wise," 
when left to itself! and how easily does the power of 
temptation subdue the energies of the heart, and en- 
slave the man, when the assisting hand of Heaven is 
withdrawn! The last days of Solomon formed a sad 
contrast to the lustre of his younger life. Blasted by 
vice, the fruits of the autumn but ill answered the 
promise of the spring. From the moment of his at- 
tachment to idolatry, he passed over to deserved obliv- 
ion; and having reigned in Israel forty years, '^he slept 
with his fathers, and was buried in the city of David.'' 
Rehoboam his son succeeded him, and in his days 
the kingdom was divided. Ten of the tribes of Israel 
followed Jeroboam the son of Nebat, and two only, 
Judah and Benjamin, adhered to the house of David. 
This division had been foretold, in the davs of Solo- 

38 



298 

fiWJn, by Ahijali the Shilonite. From this period these' 
kingdoms were totally distinct; and under the titles 
of Israel and Judah, they had a separate line of kings^ 
and were even sometimes found at war with each oth^ 
cr. It is not our design to enter into the history of 
the kingdoms thus separated: but we refer you to the 
books of the Kings, and of the Chronicles; which 
even in the estimation of skepticism, ought surely to 
have an equal degree of credit, with the regular and 
authenticated records of any other country. The de- 
scendants of Abraham thus divided, were punished by 
bondage for their transgressions, at two different peri- 
ods, under different circumstances, in different places, 
with different consequences. The object of the pres^ 
ent meeting is, to exhibit and to corroborate, The cap- 
tivities OF Israel and of Judaii. 

I, THE captivity of ISRAEL, 

The bondage of the ten tribes took place in the 
ninth year of the reign of Hosea, king of Israel, in the 
year of world 3385, and seven hundred and twenty- 
one years before Christ. According to Josephus they 
were removed out of their country "nine hundred and 
forty -seven years after their forefathers were brought 
out of the land of Egypt*, eight hundred years after 
Joshua had been their leader; and two hundred and 
forty years, seven months, and seven days, after they 
had revolted from Rehoboam."^ It was begun in 
the days of Pekah, king of Israel, and completed by 
Shalmaneser, king of Assyria. Shalmaneser took Sa- 
maria after a seige of three years. Hezekiah was at 
that time in the seventh year of his reign over Judah. 
Hosea was taken alive; the government of the Isiael- 

•Joseph. Antiq. Jud. lib. ix. cap. 14. 



20Q 

ites was completely overthrown; the people were 
transported into Assyria, Media, and Persia; and oth- 
er nations, out of Cuthath, Ava, Hamath, and Sephcir- 
vaim, were brought into Samaria, and took possession 
of the country which had belonged to Israel. These 
are the Samaritans, against whom the Jews bore par- 
ticular hatred, and who did not fail to return it: for 
when the Jews were in prosperity they were willing 
to be thought in some way allied to them, but in their 
adversity always disowned them. And thus they 
availed themselves of the favor which Alexander shew- 
ed the Jews when he visited them, and professed to 
descend from Ephraim and Manasseh, the sons of 
Joseph.* But so rooted and so permanent was their 
mutual enmity, that this opposition raged most furi- 
ously in the days of our Lord: so that the woman was 
surprised that he ''being a Jew should ask water of her, 
who was a woman of Samaria;" and it is added, "for 
the Jews have no dealings with the Samaritans;" and 
we find one of their villages on another occasion, re- 
fusing to receive the Savior, "because his face was as 
though he would go to Jerusalem." 

The ostensible cause of this captivity was as follows: 
Hoshea, on an invasion of Samaria by Shalmaneser, 
in an early part of his reign, had bought him off by 
presents, and declared himself to be the servant of the 
the king of Assyria. On these humiliating terms 
Shalmaneser withdrew his armies from him, and Ho- 
shea was permitted to hold the crown of Israel in sub- 
ordination to him. After this compact between them, 
Hoshea secretly conspired against him; and sending to 
So, king of Egypt, for assistance, withheld the annua! 
tribute to Assyria, designing to shake off the yoke 

• See Joseph. Amiq. JitcMib. xi, cap, S.. 



300 

which Shahnaneser had imposed. This monarch? 
termed So, in the words read at the commencement of 
this Lecture, is called Setho by Herodotus; and is the 
famous Sabachon of Diodorus Siculus, and of other 
profane writers, who dethroned and murdered Boc- 
charis, the king of Egypt, in the beginning of the reign 
of Hezekiah, and seized upon the kingdom. Shal- 
maneser coming to the knowledge of this conspiracy, 
advanced with a powerful army against Hoshea, shut 
him up in Samaria, and afterwards took him, and the 
Israelites, captive. 

Of the existence, and the enterprising disposition of 
Shalmaneser, we have the evidence of Menander the 
historian, when he wrote his chronology, and translat- 
ed the Tyrian Chronicles into the Greek language. 
This is his testimony, preserved by Josephus — "Eluleus 
reigned thirty-six years. This monarch, upon the re- 
volt of the Citteans, sailed against, and reduced them. 
Against these did the king of Assyria (Shalmaneser) 
send an army, and invaded all Phenicia. At length 
he made peace with them and returned. But Sidon, 
Ace, Palatyrus, and several other cities, revolted from 
the Tyi ians, and surrendered themselves to the king 
of Assyria, Now when the Tyrians refused to sub- 
mit to him, he renewed the contest; and the Pheni- 
cKins furnished him with sixty ships and eight hundred 
rowers. The Tyrians opposed him with twelve ships, 
dispersed his armament, and took five hundred men 
prisoners He renewed the struggle, however, and 
placed a garrison over their rivers and aqueducts, to 
prevent them from drawing water; during which peri- 
od the Tyrians sustained the siege, and drank the wa- 
ters of the vyells which they digged upon this emer- 



301 

gency."* This testimony is produced to shew that 
profane historians confirm the character which the 
scriptures give of Shalmaneser; and it decidedly 
proves that he was formidable to all his neighbors. 

Who can read these narrations of blood-shed with- 
out deploring the evil of falling into the hands of an 
unprincipled tyrant? The designs of God against Is- 
rael did not clear Shalmaneser from guilt. He was 
an instrument to bring about the purposes of Deity 
without his concurrence, and even without his knowl- 
edge. He meant only to satiate his ambition at the 
expense of the fortunes, the liberties, and the lives of 
his contemporaries; and his treatment of other nations, 
unconnected with the Israelites, demonstrates too 
clearly the tyranny of his disposition. The history 
of man furnishes us with many a lamentable evidence, 
that he is not to be trusted with absolute power, that 
he grows intoxicated with it, and that possessing it, 
he plunges dther himself or others into an abyss of 
ruin and misery. In proportion as he is furnished 
with the means to effect niuch, he does mischief; as 
those beasts of the forest are most to be dreaded, w^hich 
have the most strength united with their sanguinary 
dispositions. Where much power is possessed, much 
good might be done. How many thousands of hearts 
might one man make happy! He might suppress the vic- 
ious, and strengthen the weak ,and comfort the sorrow- 
ful: he might be as God, dispensing peace, and joy, and 
order, around him in society. But, alas! he no soon- 
er feels his exaltation than he grows giddy with it! 
He no longer recollects that he is himself a man, in 
the midst of those who are 'bone of his bone and ilcsh 

*Men?.nd, apud. Joseph- Antiq lib- ix, cbap. 14* 



302 

of his flesh." Half the world must worship him: and 
the other half, who will not, must be visited with "a 
rod of iron." He values not the soul of his brother: 
he cares not how many lives he expends to gratify his 
ambition, his hatred, or his passions. Society groans 
under his tyranny, and the world is turned into a field 
of blood. See yonder unjust man, whose character 
will be read in his history before we close this Lecture, 
setting up an image of gold, and commanding on pain 
of death a whole empire to worship it: What gave 
birth to this extravagance? The intoxication of power! 
And are his threats merely the language of caprice and 
anger? No! but yonder are three men dragged to the 
fire to be burned, because they refuse to comply with 
a command, from which their religion, their conscience, 
and every thing which they ought to hold most dear, 
revolt. That man might be a sun to quicken, to warm, 
and to illumine: but he is a meteor that scorches, ter- 
rifies, and blights, whatever, falls under his baneful in- 
fluence. 

How different is the character of the Deity! When 
1 appear before a great man, his object often is to daz- 
zle and to overwhelm me. He is anxious only that I 
should feel his greatness and my own inferiority. 
He clothes himself with all his power, and enjoys my 
embarrassment. No matter whether millions of peo- 
ple are made unhappy by his pride: he is careless 
whether he is loved, so that he is but feared. I turn 
away with horror and disgust from a man whose 
breath is in his nostrils, living but to confound and to 
torment, to Him in whom all majesty and might cen- 
tre — and there I lose my apprehensions! He, who 
rules above all, in the plenitude of power, who is King 
of kings, and Lord of lords, blends with infinite 



303 

strength, illimitable compassion. The spirit that shrinks 
with dismay from the frowning, forbiding aspect, of 
an imperious fellow-worm, is invited to the feet of his 
Creator, not more by the mild and affectionate lan- 
guage of scripture, than by the experience which he 
has had of his gracious character, in the mercies which 
he has personally received at his hand. His majesty 
astonishes, but does not confound. His glory dazzles, 
but does not consume. His power fills the mind with 
awe, but does not overwhelm it with terror. Ah, 
David was right, when, in his great strait, he preferred 
falling into the hands of God, rather than into the 
hands of man; and the history of this night proves his 
wisdom. Yet did the Israelites choose a man before 
God, and elevated a creature to the throne previously 
filled only by the Creator! 

The most remarkable circumstance attending the 
captivity of Israel, is the loss of the ten tribes. 
We hear nothing more concerning them, excepting a 
few who returned with Judah and Benjamin from the 
Babylonish captivity; and the general opinion res- 
pecting them is, that they were absorbed in the na- 
tions among whom they were dispersed. Of this 
opinion are Josephus and St. Jerome. Others object 
that their return from captivity appears to be plainly 
pointed out by Amos, and by Hosea. ''I will bring 
again the captivity of my people of Israel, and they 
shall build the waste cities, and inhabit them; and 
they shall plant vineyards, and drink the wine thereof; 
they shall also make gardens, and eat the fruit of 
them. And I will plant them upon their land, and 
they shall be no more pulled up out of the land which 
I have given them, saith the Lord thy God."* Hosea 

• Amos is, 14, 15. 



304 

also says, 'Then shall the children of Judah, and the 
children of Israel be gathered together, and appoint 
themselves one head, and they shall come up out of 
the land; for great shall be the day of Jezreel."* The 
first of these prophecies relates to the rearing of the 
tabernacle '^of David," which surely was done by 
Judah and Benjamin, and appears more decidedly to 
refer to them, since the ten tribes had disavowed any 
connexion with the house of David at the time of 
their separation. Upon the answer returned by Re- 
hoboam, they replied to the king, "what portion have 
we in David? Neither have we inheritance in the son 
of Jesse! To your tents, O Israel! Now see to thine 
own house, David!"t In the second, I confess, Judah 
and Israel are mentioned separately, yet conjointly, 
because of the co-operation ascribed to them. May 
we not suppose this prediction fuliiiied in the return 
of the Levites, the remnant of Israel, who were brought 
from Babylon with the men of Judah and of Benja- 
min? Who united with them under one leader, and 
who assisted them in building the wall of Jerusalem? 
We leave the question to the decision of your own 
judgments. Indeed it does not immediately come be- 
fore us as a subject of discussion; our professed object 
being simply to confirm the fact of the two captivities, 
and to relate the circumstances attending them. There 
is no record of their return, there are no traces of their 
tribes, there is no evidence of their existence. Those 
who maintain that they are yet in being, advance on- 
ly an hypothesis incapable of demonstration; and the 
most general conclusion upon the subject is, we be- 
lieve, that they are wholly lost. 

* Hosea i, IL f 1 Kings lii, 16. 



S06 

The inferences which we deduce from this position 
are these: 

1. That the coming of the Messiah was the grand 
object of the Old Testament dispensation, and that 
the peculiarities of the Jews bore a manifest relation 
to him To decide this, it is only necessary to ob- 
serve, that from the time of the promise made to Adam, 
the Savior was the subject of all the engagemetts be- 
tween God and man. The study of genealogies, and 
the strictness with which they were commanded to be 
kept, were enjoined, we may presume, that they might 
trace with certainty and decision, the line of the Mes- 
siah. The ceremonies of the Jewish religion were evi- 
dently types of something: as they were expressly in- 
stituted by God, it must follow that the antitype should 
be sublime, that these rites might be worthy their 
great Founder: and no meaning can be affixed to 
them, unless they be allowed to refer to the life, the 
sufferings, and the atonement of the Lord Jesus. The 
prophecies at that early period, looked forwards to the 
Savior: and they increased in clearness and in copi- 
ousness, as they approached the advent of the Messi- 
ah. The separation of the Jews from all other na- 
tions, was founded, we conceive, upon this same piin- 
©iple. Hence we infer 

2. That the very existence of the Jews depended 
upon their connexion with the Savior. Till the days 
of David the promises respecting the Messiah were of 
general import, that he should descend from Abra- 
ham. But then they became more explicit, and it was 
declared that Christ should be of the house of David. 
To the family of David, therefore, the promise was 
restricted. So long as they adhered to, and were 
connected with, the house of David, which was also 

69 



307 

the house of Jesus, they were separated with their 
brethren from the rest of mankind, and their exist- 
ence was secured: but when they voluntarily resigned 
their interest in that house, and were severed from the 
two tribes, they were dispersed and absorbed among 
the nations, and the few who returned from captivity 
lost their distinction: they returned with Judah and 
Benjamin, and were swallowed up of their brethren. 
Now it is remarkable that individuals were supported 
in the same way. Lot, so long as he stands in union 
with Abraham, who was inseparably connected with 
the Messiah, is an object of importance: but once di- 
vided from him, we read little of him afterwards, and 
at length he totally vanishes out of our sight. Judah 
and Benjamin, who were of the house of David, were 
also led into captivity: but they were restored, because 
of their connexion with the Messiah: while Israel, hav- 
ing become separated from this great interest, were 
scattered and lost. These observations will not, we 
trust, be deemed altogether unimportant; as they prove 
the unity of the scriptures, and the connexion between 
the Old and the New Testaments. But we hasten to 
fix your attention upon 

II. THE CAPTIVITY OF JUDAH. 

This captivity was commenced by Nebuchadnezzar, 
and completed by his general, Nebuzaradan. The 
interval between the first desolation of Jerusalem by 
the king of Babylon, and its total overthrow by his 
servant, was about twenty-two years. It was begun 
in the reign of Jehoiakim, six hundred and six years 
before the coming of Christ. Nebuchadnezzar took 
the city in the ninth month, called Casleu, which an- 
swers to our November, and on the twelfth day of 



307 

the month: which the Jews keep as an annual fast in 
commemoration of this event to this day.* Among 
the number of captives taken from Jerusalem, were 
Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah: whom the 
Babylonians called, Belteshazzar, Shadrach, Meshach, 
and Abednego. The interval between the commence- 
ment, and the consummation, of the destruction of 
Jerusalem, is crowded with important transactions, a 
few of which it may be necessary to mention. 

The reading of the roll before Jehoiakim, who was 
not rendered sensible of his wickedness by the first 
desolation of his country, excited the most infuriate 
emotions, and having first cut it in pieces with his own 
hand, he threw it into the fire. The Jews keep also 
the twenty-ninth day of Casleu a fast, in remembrance 
of the impiety of the monarch, by whom this import- 
ant writing was consumed. 

In the seventh year of Jehoiakim, and the second 
after the death of the father of Nebuchadnezzar, Dan- 
iel explained the first vision of the king of Babylon, 
which elevated him to the highest dignities of the 
empire. 

The other events recorded in the book of Daniel, to 
the expulsion of Nebuchadnezzar from society, fol- 
lowed in the order in which they are there narrated, 
and conduct us to the total overthrow of Jerusalem 
by Nebuzaradan, in the reign of Zedekiah: which 
was accompanied with the most horrible circumstan- 
ces of rigor and cruelty. The temple was spoiled of 
all its riches and furniture, and was burned, together 
with the royal palace. The slaughter was dreadful: 
the city was totally dismantled: and the whole of its 

• See Prideaux*s Connec. vol. i, b. 1. Anc. Univ. Hist. vol. iv, b. 1, c.7* 
note O. Usher s'lb, A. M. 3597. 



SOS 

inhabitants, who escaped the sword, were led into cap- 
tivity. This event took place in the year of the world 
3718, five hundred and eighty-eight years before 
Christ, and one hundred and thirty-four years after 
the destruction of the kingdom of Israel, and the cap- 
tivity of the ten tribes. 

Nebuchadnezzar having at length sheathed the 
sword, applied himself to the completion of his works 
at Babylon. As it will be necessary to relate the siege 
of this city by Cyrus, which terminated the captivity 
of Judah, it will be proper previously to give a short 
description of this wonderful place. The x^ity stood 
upon an immense plain, and formed a complete square. 
The most remarkable works in, and about it, were the 
w^alls, the temple, the palace, the bridge, and the banks, 
of the river, and the canals for draining it. 

1. The Walls. They were in thickness eighty^ 
seven feet: in height three hundred and fifty: in com- 
pass four hundred and eighty furlongs, or about sixty 
miles. This is the account given by Herodotus, the 
most ancient writer upon this subject, who was him- 
self at Babylon. Each side of the city was defended 
by a wall fifteen miles in length. These walls were 
built of bricks, cemented with bitumen, a glutinous 
slime, resembling pitch, found in abundance in that 
country, which binds together much more firmly than 
lime, and in time becomes harder than the bricks or 
stones themselves. They were surrounded by a vast 
moat filled with water. On every side of this im- 
m^ se square were twenty-five gates, amounting in all 
to one hundred, and as many bridges were thrown 
across the moat which encircled the city. These 
gates were all made of solid brass: and for this reason, 
when God promised to Cyrus the conquest of Baby- 



-S0§ 

Ion, he said, that he would "break before him, the 
gates of brass y At proper intervals towers were 
erected all along the walls, each of them about ten 
feet higher than the walls themselves. It seems, how- 
ever, that this is to be understood only of those parts 
of the walls where towers were needful for defence: 
when three towers were between every two of the 
gates, and four at the four corners: but some parts of 
the walls being upon a morass and inaccessible to an 
enemy, were not thus defended: and the whole num- 
ber of the towers were two hundred and fifty. This 
economy destroying the symmetry of the city, the de- 
ficiency was afterwards supplied by Nitocris.* From 
the twenty-five gates on each side of the city were 
twenty-five streets extending in a straight line to the 
corresponding gates on the opposite side, directly in« 
tersecting each other at right angles: so that there were 
fifty streets, each of them fifteen miles long, dividing 
the whole city into six hundred and seventy-six squares, 
each square two miles and a quarter in circumference. 
The ground enclosed within these squares, was formed 
into gardens. 
The next objects worthy attention were, 
2. The bridge, and the banks of the hiveb. 
A branch of the Euphrates ran through the centre of 
the city from north to south. On each side of the 
river were a quay, and an high wall built of brick and 
of bitumen, of the same thickness with the walls 
which surrounded the city. In these walls, over 
against every street that led to the river, were also, 
gates of brass, and from them were descents by steps to. 
the river. These brazen gates were always open in 

•Anc. Un'v. Hist. vol. iv, b. 1, c. 9, p. 408 and 434, Dublin edition 1745* 
20 vol. 



310 

the day, and shut by night. The bridge thrown over 
it in the middle of the city, was a magnificent structure, 
a furlong in length, and thirty feet in breadth. Nor 
must we omit 

3. The Canals for draining the river. In the be- 
ginning of the summer, the sun melting the snows on 
the mountains of Armenia, a vast overflow of the Eu- 
phrates takes place in the months of June, July, and 
August. To prevent any damage to the city and its 
inhabitants, at a considerable distance above the town, 
were cut two artificial canals, which turned the course 
of the waters into the Tigris before they reached Bab- 
ylon. For additional security, two immense banks 
were raised on each side of the river. In order to form 
these mounds it was necessary to drain off the water; 
which was done by digging a prodigious lake forty 
miles square, one hundred and sixty in circumference, 
and thirty-five feet deep. 

These are the wonders recorded by ancient writers, 
concerning Babylon; and which almost exceed credi- 
bility, were it not that their testimony on this subject 
perfectly coincides with itself. Berosus, Magasthenes, 
and Abydenus, agree in ascribing these works to 
Nebuchadnezzar.* 

4. The Palace, the hanging gardens, and the 
TEMPLE, were respectively splendid and magnificent: 
but as they are not necessary to our subject, we wave 
a description of them. It is agreed by most historians, 
that the temple of Belus was built on the plan of the 
tower of Babel, and is by some supposed to be erected 
on its ruins. Josephus says, that Babylon took its name 

* For this, and a more enlarcfed account of Babylon, see RoHin's Anc, 
Hist. vol. i, p. 188, he. Anc. Univ. Hist. vol. iv, b. I, c. 9. Prideaux's' 
Connec, vol. i, pt, i, b. i\, p. 133—148. Herod. 1. 1, c. 178, &c. 



311 

from Babel, a word implying confusion, in commemo- 
ration of the confusion of language, and the dispersion 
of the people.* This temple was higher than the high- 
est pyramid of Egypt.t From the situation of Babylon, 
in a clear atmosphere, and a serene sky, together with 
the advantage of this immense elevation, arose the su- 
periority of Chaldeans in astronomical studies. The 
description of this immense city, which has now been 
submitted to you, was necessary that you may under- 
stand the nature of those operations adopted by Cyrus 
in obtaining possession of it. 

We are not to wonder that the heart of Nebuchad- 
nezzar, the resistless conqueror, and the lord of Baby- 
lon, was inflated with pride. Where there is not a 
principle of religion to counteract the influence of hu- 
man depravity, the power of a lofty spirit admits of no 
restraint. But "pride is nigh unto destruction; and an 
haughty spirit goeth before a fall," Nebuchadnezzar 
ascribed to the power of his own arm, the glory and 
the majesty of his kingdom, and the Deity punished 
him, by driving him from human society. He would 
be a god, and he became less than a manlj His humil- 
iation had been predicted in a vision, explained to him 
by the prophet Daniel, a year before it took place. § 
The five following considei'ations may perhaps tend to 
confirm this event, as an historical fact. 

1. It is circumstantially related in a decree which 
Nebuchadnezzar issued upon his restoration to his 
kingdom: which decree must have existed at the very 
time when the scriptural account was written; admit- 

• Josephus de Antiq. Jud. Tom. I, lib. i, cap. 4. Hudsoni edit. 

I For a general description of it, see Anc. Univ. Hist. vol. ii, b. i, c. 9, 
and vol. i, b. i, c. 2. See also no\e 3, oftliis Lecture, at the end of the 
volunie. 

^ Dan, iv, 29- -So. § Ban. Iv, 4, SiC 



312 

ting (which we may reasonably claim) that the event 
was recorded at the time which it asserts, and possesses 
the antiquity ascribed to the book of Daniel: there- 
fore imposition was impossible, and the attempt among 
contemporaries, would only have exposed the writer 
to derision. It is not the relation of a transaction pre- 
vious to his birth, which Daniel has written, but he 
was an eye-witness of the circumstance, an actor in 
the scene, and the whole Jewish nation, as well as the 
Babylonish empire, were concerned in it. 

2. Scaliger, thinks that this madness of Nebuchad- 
nezzar is obscurely hinted in a fragment of Abydenus, 
preserved by Eusebius* — wherein having, from the tes- 
timony of the Chaldean writers, represented the king 
to have fallen into an ecstacy, and to have foretold the 
destruction of that empire by the Medes and Persians, 
he adds — "immediately after uttering this prophecy, 
he disappeared," which Scaliger supposes refers to the 
deposition of his kingly authority, and to his exclusion 
from society. 

3. Herodotus speaks of his pride, and of his defi- 
ance even of Divine power, in much the same terms as 
those used by the inspired writer. He says — "such 
was his loftiness and presumption, that he boasted, it 
was not in the power of God himself to dispossess him 
of his kingdom, so securely did he deem himself es- 
tablished in it."t 

4. Josephus asserts this event: and amid all his nu- 
merous opposers, and their diversified objections, the 
relation of this fact by him w^as never disputed.''^ 

5. By Ptolemy's canon, a contemporary record, 
Nebuchadnezzar is said to have reigned forty-three 

* Euseb. Pisp. Evang. lib. ix, cap. 41. f Herod, lib. 2. 
t Joseph, de Antiq. Judeor. Ton), li lib. _x> cap. 10 






313 

years, eight of which are passed over in silence. HU 
actions, as recounted both by sacred and profane his- 
torians, are so remarkable, and his spirit so enterprising, 
that it can scarcely be imagined that he should be in- 
active during eight years, or that his achievements in 
that period should be buried in oblivion. The conclu- 
sion is in favor of the record of Daniel, that he was 
excluded from society, for seven years, till he learned 
td acknowledge the hand which had made him great, 
and to ascribe all power to God.* Of the reign and 
the works of Nebuchadnezzar, Josephus has preserved 
the testimonies of Berosus, Megasthenes, Diodes, and 
Philostratus. 

BERosuSjin the third book of his Chaldaic histories 
says — that "his father died at Babylon after having 
reigned twenty- one years: that Nebuchadnezzar was 
at that time absent in Egypt, but having received the 
intelligence of his father's death, he arranged his affairs 
abroad, and committing the care and transportation 
of the Jews, Syrians, Egyptians, and Phenicians, to 
his friends, to follow him with his army and carriages 
to Babylon, he himself with a few men hastened thith- 
er, tind took upon himself the government of the em- 
pire." Again he adds, "with the spoils of war, he most 
magnificently decorated the temple of Belus — he en- 
larged the old city — built within it a triple wall — erect- 
ed a magnificent palace" — and so he goes on to speak 
of the hanging gardens, and of his other operations. 
"Megasthenes, in the fourth book of his Indian his- 
tory, mentions this garden, and asserts that Nebuchad- 
nezzar surpassed Hercules in valor, and in the great- 
ness of his exploits." Diocles in the second book of 

• See Pricieaux*s Connec. vol i, b. 1, in locum. 

40 



314 

the Persian history ,'and Philostratus, in his history'of 
India and Phenicia, say that he besieged Tyre thirteen 
years, and took it in the reign of Ithobal."* 

To Nebuchadnezzar succeeded Evil-Merodach, who 
set Jechoniah at liberty and made him one of his 
friends. After a reign of vice and folly of two years, 
he was slain by the conspiracy of his own family. 

To him succeeded Neriglasser, who reigned only 
four years, and was slain in a battle against Cyrus. 

To him succeeded Belshazzar, with whose life the 
Babylonish captivity terminated. Cyrus, conducted by 
an invisible hand, advanced gradually towards Baby- 
lon, and closely besieged it: while Belshazzar, or rather 
Nitocris the queen mother (for the character of Bel- 
shazzar by all profane historians is, that he was wholly 
addicted to sensual pleasures, which is abundantly con- 
firmed by the scriptural account) as strenuously forti- 
fied, and defended it. This conquerer surrounded the 
city with his army: but the king of Babylon presum- 
ing upon its impregnable strength, and upon the maga- 
zine of provisions, which, without any fresh supplies, 
less than a ten years siege could not exhaust, derided 
the efforts of his powerful adversary. In the mean time 
the besiegers encompassed the city with a deep trench? 
keeping their purposes a profound secret; and Cyrus was 
informed of the feast which was about to be held in 
Babylon. Upon this night he determined to suspend 
the fates of his army, and of the empire for which he 
fought. On this occasion of festivity, Belshazzar, with 
a bold impiety at which his predecessors, proud and 
daring as they were, would have shuddered, profan- 
ed the vessels of the temple of Jehovah. The appari- 

• Joseph, de Antlq. Jud. Tom. 5, lib. x, cap. 11, Hudson! edit. 



315 

tion of an hand writing on the wall of the palace in 
unknown characters first excited the apprehensions of 
the king. In vain he called the astrologers and the 
magicians: in vain he alternately threatened and en- 
treated them: they could neither read the writing, nor 
make known the interpretation. The sentence was 
written in Samaritan characters which the Chaldeans 
did not understand; and could they have decyphered 
these, they could not have explained them. The words 
literally rendered are, ^'He hath numbered, he hath 
numbered, he hath weighed, and they divide." Dan- 
iel was sent for, and announced from them the imme- 
diate fall of his empire. While this was the state of 
things at the palace, Cyrus had drained the rivei^ into 
his moat, till it was fordable. Informed of the confu- 
sion which reigned in the city, he issued orders to his 
troops to enter it that very night at north and south, 
by marching up the channel. They were command- 
ed by two eminent officers, and advanced towards 
each other, without suffering any impediment, till they 
met in the centre of the river. God, who had prom- 
ised to open before him the gates of brass, preceded 
them: otherwise this singular and adventurous expedi- 
tion must have failed. Had the gates which closed 
the avenues leading to the river been shut, which was 
always the custom at night, the whole scheme had 
been defeated. But so was it ordered by Providence, 
that on this night of general riot and confusion, with 
unparalleled negligence, they were left open! So that 
these troops penetrated the very heart of the city with- 
out opposition, and reached the palace before any 
alarm was given. The guards were immediately put 
to the sword — Belshazzar slain — and the city taken 
almost without resistance. 



316 

Thus fell the Babylonish empire. Cyrus made a 
decree in favor of the Jews, which led to their restora- 
tion; and thus terminated the captivity of Judah, after 
a period of seventy years.* They returned to their 
country, and rebuilt their city and their temple: and 
while the young men shouted when the foundation 
was laid, the elders wept aloud because of its manifest 
inferiority to the magnificence of the former building: 
'*So that they could not discern the noise of the shout 
of joy, from the noise of the weeping of the people!'* 

The history which has passed before you this night, 
discovers with what facility the Deity can dry up the 
streams of our enjoyment, and even cut offthe supplies 
of our existence. He has only to speak the word, and 
a thousand instruments spring up to execute the fierce- 
ness of his displeasure. He has only to give the com- 
mand, and the air whicl) we breathe, becomes the ve- 
hicle of instantaneous death. Fire mingles with the 
blast of the desert, and consumes the vitals. t The 
pestilence 'Hvalketh in darkness," or flying through 
the slumbering city, shakes poison from its deadly 
pinions. He holds back the face of his sun, and the 
"heavens are black with wind and rain," a partial del- 
uge covers the country, and the promise of the harvest 
is cut off. Or he commands his winds to scatter the 
clouds, to drive them to some more favored land, and 
the corn, expecting in vain the early and the latter rain, 
withers and perishes. The earth is cleft with the heat, 
the herd die through lack of water, the sunbeam 
beats upon the man's head, till he faints, and his tongue 
cleaves to the roof of his mouth, and he is brought 
down "to the dust of death." The desolation some* 

• See note 5, of this Lecture, at the end of the voliime. 
t See note 6, of this Lecture, at the end of the volume, 



317 

times suddenly arises. There is peace in the city: the 
harvest is swelling to maturity: every heart rejoices in 
the security of its comforts. A cloud rises in the east, 
and extends till it hides the sun at noon day. A noise 
is heard in the air, which covers "every face with 
blackness." An army of locusts descends: and the 
land which was "as the garden of Eden before them, 
behind them is a desolate wilderness.'^ Sometimes the 
same desolation is effected at a stroke by the earth- 
quake: at others, war thunders in the heart of an em- 
pire, and blood .runs down the streets of a city.* 

The conduct of Nebuchadnezzar is fruitful also in 
instruction. We frequently see the worst of charac- 
ters filling the most eminent situations, moying in the 
most exalted and the most splendid spheres, ruling 
over powerful empires, exalting his throne above the 
stars of heaven: a luminary that dazzles the eyes of the 
princes of this world: a meteor that perplexes, con- 
founds, and terrifies the inhabitants of the earth. Na- 
tions bow down one after another, to the iron yoke, 
till the whole world is subjected to. him. Elevation 
of rank in society, is so far from being bestowed upon 
the most worthy, and the most upright characters, that 
these situations, so full of danger, and which require 
so much wisdom, are frequently seized by violence, 
obtained by birth, procured by partial favor, and are 
often permitted by Providence to be occupied by men, 
at once destitute of principle, and of religion the true 
source of principle. When we consider to whose 
hands the government of mighty empires has been 
committed: when we examine the history of the great 
monarch of Babylon: when we trace the sceptre of 

• See note 7, of this Lecture, at the end of the volume. 



SIS 

power, alternately under the control of Greece and of 
Rome, and read the lives of monsters, whose delight 
it was to trample upon every Gocial fesling, and to vio- 
late the rights of humanity, (to exclude modern histo- 
ry from our calcution) it must be confessed, and it is 
recorded in human blocd, that in many instances 
"the earth" has been ^*given into the hand of the 
wicked." 

But the power of the wicked is limited. ^Heaven 
is above all yet.' He who permits, can and does 
restrain the exertion of their power. To every thing 
there is a limit. The ocean has it boundaries over 
which it cannot pass. The winds are not suffered to 
rage with fury uncoiitroled. The planets, and even 
eccentric comets, have their prescribed orbits. The 
meteor has the point of its elevation, and the moment 
of its fall, and of its expiration, assigned it. And he 
w^ho gave, can recall the power of the oppressor; and 
dreadful will be his responsibility for the abuse of it! 

When war is awakened, the judgments of God are 
abroad in the earth. Thus have we seen to night a 
people distinguished for their religious privileges, for 
their prosperity, and for their separation from all other 
nations, devoted to destruction because of their trans- 
gressions. Let us learn, that whenever the sword is 
permitted to devour, it is to chastise the inhabitants of 
the earth for their inquity. War is horrible in its na- 
ture, and in its effects. It separates the dearest and 
the closest connexions of human nature. One battle 
renders thousands of wives, widows: thousands of 
children, fatherless: thousands of parents, childless, 
thousands of spirits ruined beyond redemption! See, 
pressing into yonder slippery, empurpled field, throngs 
of all ages, seeking their own among the dead! In 



i 



319 

this disfigured countenance the child discerns with dif- 
ficulty the features of his father. In that mangled 
body dwelt the spirit which was the prop and the 
glory of yonder silvery head, now bowed down over 
it in silent, unspeakable sorrow. There the widow 
washes the wounds of her husband with her tears. 
And how few of that dreadful list of slaughtered men 
were fit to die! Surely war was let loose upon the 
world as a curse, in the just anger of God. 

Let us seek therefore a better state of existence. 
Let us deem it no longer an hardship, that we are 
"pilgrims and strangers upon the earth:" but let us 
"confess it" with cheerfulness, and look for "a city 
which hath foundations, whose builder and mak- 
er is God." Let us turn away from the kingdoms of 
this world, laid open to the hand of violence, and seek 
a shelter under the government of Deity, from all pres- 
ent, and from all future evil. Let us press forwards 
to his immediate presence, to live there in a state of 
rest, a state of holiness, a state of felicity, a state of 
permanency, a state of immutability! 



LECTURE XIL 

THE LIFE, DEATH, RESURRECTION, AND ASCEN- 
StON OF JESUS CHRIST, PROVED AS MATTERS OF 
FACT, 

LUKE II. 1 — 7, 

And it came to pass in those days, that there went out 
a decree from Cesar Augustus, that all the world 
should be taxed. (And this taxing was first made 
when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.) And all 
went to be taxed, every one into his own city. And 
Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of 
Nazareth, into Judea. unto the city of David, which 
is called Bethlehem, (because he was of the house 
and lineage of David:) to be taxed with Mary his 
espoused wife, being great with child. And so it 
was, that while they were there, the days were ac- 
complished that she should be delivered. And she 
brougth forth her first-born son, and wrapped him 
in swaddling-clothes, and laid him in a manger, 
because there was no room for them in the inn. 

1 COR. XV. 3—8, 
For I delivered unto you first of all, that which I also 
received, how that Christ died for our sins accord- 
ing to the scriptures: and that he was buried,andfhat 
he rose again the third day according to the scrip- 
tures: And that he was seen of Cephas,-then of the 
twelve. After that, he was seen of above five hun- 
dred brethren at once: of whom the greater part 



S2I 

remain unto this present, but some are fallen asleep- 
After that, he was seen of James; then of all the 
apostles. And last of all he was seen of me also, 
as of one born out of due time. 

2 PETER i, 16. 
Por we have not followed cunningly devised fables, 
when we made known unto you the power and com- 
ing of our Lord Jesus Christ, but were eye-witnes- 
ses of his majesty, 

THERE is a certain degree of sublimity in which We 
feel gratified, and the emotions which it excites are 
pleasing as well as awful: but beyond that — the sen- 
sation becomes painful and oppressive. As my eye 
explores the azure vault of heaven, I contemplate 
with solemn delight worlds moving there, suspended 
without any known or visible support: yet I should 
tremble if a rock of ice, which would be but as a grain 
of sand in comparison of these, hung over my head. 
The reason why I feel no terror in beholding bodies 
so immense quivering upon nothing is, that they are 
too remote to excite apprehension, and distance has so 
diminished them, tliat I lose the conception of their 
magnitude. I gaze with pleasure upon the proud 
elevation of the lofty mountain, as I stand at its foot: 
bui I shudder to approach the brink of a precipice of 
equal depth: the one excites in me an impression of 
the sublime — the other appears to risk my personal 
safety. So nearly allied are the emotions of sublimity 
and terror, that the one sometimes rises into the other! 
An earthly monarch does well to borrow all possible 
splendor, and to array himself in all the ensigns of roy- 
alty, in order to impress the spectator with an idea of 
41 



322 

majesty: and scarcely are we impressed after all! We 
see humanity tottering under that weighty grandeur, 
and feel that we are in the presence of but a man. 
The Majesty of heaven needs no such appendages. 
Decked in his mildest radiance, no mortal vision could 
endure the insufferable splendor; and we have seen 
him, when all ideas of sublimity were absorbed and 
lost in the stronger emotions of terror. We can only 
behold him at a distance without fear: whenever he 
approaches us, whatever veil he may spread over his 
uncreated glory, we are overwhelmed with the pres- 
ence of Deity. 

We cannot contemplate God in any point of view, 
through the medium of revelation, without being sen- 
sible of his perfections. If his mercy speak in whis- 
pers, soft as the breath of the morning, or grateful as 
the gale fanned by the wings of the evening, every 
passion sinks to rest, every tumultuous feehng subsides, 
and we are lost in wonder, in love, in ecstacy.- If 
his justice thunder in the heavens, the commotions of 
listening nations are suspended: and men, and angels 
acknowledge, in silent awe, the justice of his dispensa- 
tions. In making requisition for sin, and requiring its 
expiation by blood, his conduct may be inexplicable 
to our present imperfect apprehensions; nevertheless 
we are assured, that "it became Him, for whom are 
all things, and by whom are all things, in bringing 
many sons unto glory, to make the captain of their 
salvation perfect through suffering " O how unlike 
is He to the most perfect of human characters! The 
wisdom of Solomon yielded to the strength of seduc- 
tion: the piety of David, to the force of temptation: 
the integrity of Abraham, to the impressions of terror: 
and there never appeared on the face of the earth a 



323 

perfect character, till "the Word was made flesh and 
dwelt among us." But Deity is always equal to him- 
self— and appears alike great in terror and in mildness, 
in mercy and in judgment, in pardoning and in punish- 
ing. 

We have lately seen him in the thunder and the 
lightning of Sinai: we are now to contemplate him in 
the stillness and the tranquillity of Calvary. In this 
latter form he is more endeared to us, as sinners sav- 
ed by grace: but he is equally great in both. The 
righteous law, which was pronounced with an audible 
voice, out of "the thick darkness where God was," 
is a beautiful transcript of the purity of his nature: and 
the melancholy scenes of Calvary present a fine illus- 
tration of the harmony of his perfections. The first 
dispensation was temporary: the types, which were 
the shadows only of good things to come, have disap- 
peared: the ceremonial law waxed old; and its insti- 
tutions, having received their accomplishment, vanish- 
ed. A new and immutable dispensation, more sim- 
ple, more spiritual, more enlarged in its nature, fol- 
lowed: we still repose under its shadow; and it looks 
forwards to eternity for its fulness, its glory and its 
completion. 

In reviewing years which are passed by, we are 
necessarily involved in difficulties. The destroying 
hand of time obliterates many a page of history: and 
the more remote the age to which our attention is di- 
rected, the more oppressively heavy hangs the cloud 
of oblivion over it. We have surmounted the larger 
portion of these difficulties; and as we return to later 
generations, the cloud slowly rolls away. We have 
gradually advanced from obscurity to the dawn of the 
morning — we have seen the gates of light open upoa 



324 

us — and darkness has reluctantly yielded, to the ri's^ 
ing radiance of that day, which is; now hastening to 
its meridian. 

The subject of the present Lecture is, The Life, 
Death, Resurrection, and Ascension of Jesus 
Christ, proved as matters of fact. 

We are not now to relate facts which took place at 
the infancy of time, in some remote empire, long since 
dismembered, and its very name consigned over to 
oblivion: but the events which we defend transpired 
under the immediate sway of imperial Rome, at the 
zenith of her power, and when her dominions com- 
prehended half the globe. Her standard had been 
planted in remotest Asia: her emperors bestowed or 
displaced the diadems of neighboring states at their 
pleasure: her eagles had stretched their wings over the 
sea, and alighted upon the fields of Britain, then esteem- 
ed and denominated "the ends of the earth;" and 
while polished nations endured her yoke, the savage 
barbarian trembled at her name in the inaccessible 
wilds of his native forest, and the sons of the north fled 
to their cloud-encompassed mountains, and crouched 
concealed amid the mists which crept along their sum- 
mits. 

It is singular that, at this period, the whole world 
were in expectation of some grand and impending 
event. Not only were the descendants of Abraham 
looking for the "Desire of all nations," but a general 
tradition was in circulation, and a general impression 
prevailed, that some extraordinary personage was 
about to make his appearance. I'his is not hinted 
obscurely, but the expectation is stated openly and 
fairly, by many of the most considerable writers of 



325 

that age, both poets and historians. Seutoniiis,* and 
Tacitus,t had stated a common opinion that ^-the EaslJ 
should prevail." To this extraordinary expectation^ 
awakened and kept alive, we may reasonably impute 
the journey of the Magi, whose curiosity had been ex- 
cited by the appearance of an unknown star, differing 
in motion, and in all other respects, from the orbs 
which ordinarily revolve in the heavens. Of this, 
however, we shall feel it our duty to speak more at 
large hereafter. As a confirmation of our assertion, 
respecting the sentiments entertained at that singular 
period, we cannot resist the inclination which we feel, 
to translate a part of the most celebrated eclogue of 
Virgil, which he calls Pollio — beyond comparison the 
most elegant, and deservedly the most admired pro- 
duction of all antiquity. It was written about forty 
years before the birth of our Savior. It was compos- 
ed probably to compliment Marcellus, the nephew of 
Augustus by Octavia; but we trust that you will per- 
ceive parts in it, which can be strictly applicable to no 
mortal reign, however glorious: you will deem it 
probable that he has borrowed his most sublime ima- 
ges from the prophecies, with w^hich he might be ac- 
quainted through the medium of the Greek transla- 
tion; and the whole is a specimen of the general ex- 
pectation of the world, just previous to the advent of 
our Lord. 

^•Sicilian Muses, let us attempt more exalted strains! 
The last era foretold in Cumaean verse is already ar- 
rived. The grand series of revolving ages commences 
anew. Now a new progeny is sent down from lofty 
heaven. Be propitious, chaste Lucina, to the infant 

• Suetonius in Vespasiano, cap. 4. t TaclUiSj Histor, lib. v. cap. 13- 



326 

boy — by him the iron years shall close, and the gold- 
en age shall arise upon all the world. Under thy 
consular sway, Pollio, shall this glory of the age make 
his entrance, and the great months begin their revolu- 
tions. Should any vestiges of guilt remain, swept 
away under thy direction, the earth shall be released 
from fear for ever; and with his Father's virtues shall 
Ihe rule the tranquil world. The earth shall pour be- 
fore thee, sweet boy, without culture, her smiling first 
fruits. The timid herds shall not be afraid of the 
large, fierce lions. The venomous asp shall expire, 
and the deadly, poisonous plant, shall wither. I'he 
fields shall become yellow with golden ears of corn: 
the blushing grape shall hang upon the wild bramble; 
and the stubborn oak shall distil soft, dewy honey. — 
Yet still shall some vestiges of pristine vice remain: 
which shall cause the sea to be ploughed with ships—, 
towns to be besieged — and the face of the earth to be 
wounded with furrows. New wars shall arise — new 

heroes be sent to the battle But when thy matiiri- 

iy is come, every land shall produce all necessary 
things, and commerce shall cease. The ground shall 
not endure the harrow, nor shall the vine need the 
pruning-hook. As they wove their thread, the Desti- 
nies sang this strain — 'Roll on, ye years of felicity!' — 
Bright offspring of the gods! thou great increase of 
Jove! advance to thy distinguished honors! for now 
the time approaches! Behold, the vast globe, with its 
ponderous convexity, bows to thee! — the lands — the 
expansive seas — the sublime heavens! See, how all 
things rejoice in this advancing era! Oh! that the clos- 
ing scenes of a long life may yet hold out, and so 
much fire remain, as shall enable me to celebrate thy 
deeds!"* 

* Vire-, Eel. Iv. Pollio. 



327 

So sublimely sang the Roman bard: but Isaiah 
struck a deeper chord, and in strains still more elevat- 
ed announced the coming Savior. ''Righteousness 
shall be the girdle of his loins, and faithfulness the 
girdle of his reins. The wolf also shall dwell with 
the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; 
and the calf, and the young lion, and the falling to- 
gether, and a little child shall lead them. And the 
cow and the bear shall feed, their young ones shall 
lie down together: and the lion shall eat straw like 
the ox. And the sucking child shall play on the hole 
of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on 
the cockatrice-den. They shall not hurt, nor destroy, 
in all my holy mountain: for the earth shall be full of 
the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the 
sea."* 'Tor ye shall go out with joy, and be led 
forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall 
break forth before you into singing; and all the trees 
of the field shall clap their hands. Inetead of the 
thorn shall come up the fir tree, and instead of the 
brier shall come up the myrtle tree.^f 

Nor was the state of the world at that period less 
singular, than were the expectations of the different 
nations. The bloody portal of war was closed: the 
gates of the temple of Janus, always open in a time 
of contest, were shut: the commotions of all empires 
had subsided; and the whole earth enjoyed a profound 
tranquillity, propitious to the Savior's mild and peace- 
ful sway, and characteristic of it. This was the fifth 
time that these gates had been closed from the foun- 
dation of the city of Rome; and the peace, which was 
universal, continued without interruption for txt'elve 
years. 

• Isaiah xi, 5—9. t Isaiah Iv, 12, 13. 



•S28 

Augustus, at this time, had issued a decree, that all 
persons under the Roman dominion should be regis- 
tered, according to their respective provinces, cities, 
and families. Joseph and Mary, on this occasion, 
were called to the city of David, from their obscure 
village, to which, as being of iiis lineage, they origin- 
ally belonged, that they might be registered among 
those who were of the same family. And thus the 
mighty monarch of the Roman empim, was induced 
by an invisible power, whom he knew not, whom he 
served not, to enact a novel and general decree, to 
bring from their obscurity a poor, unknown family; 
that He who came too humbly to be acknowledged, 
might not lose an iota of evidence to his character 
and to his mission; and that the prophecies should be 
fulfilled, which had asserted that ''the Ruler of Israel" 
should come out of ^-Bethlehem!" 

A variety of conjectures have been formed respect- 
ing this tax. Some have asserted,* others have deni- 
ed,t an universal enrolment. It is not necessary in- 
deed that any other taxation than that of Judea, should 
be supposed, which will account for the silence of 
ancient historians upon the subject. — ^The original 
wordj does not necessarily imply "all the world," but 
may be rendered "all the land" — referring to the whole 
of Israel, and comprehending those parts which had 
been dismembered from the body, and distributed 
among the descendants of Herod the Great; and Gal- 
ilee the country of Joseph among them. It may be 
necessary also to observe, that we are not to take the 
term "fao?" in the sense usually affixed to it: a duty 

* Prideaux*s Connec Vol. iv. pt. ii, b. iK. 

t Lardner— Cred. Vol. ii. c. 1. 4^ mitfAm. 



329 

levied upon the people: for it simply implies here a 
register, or enrolment It should also be remembered, 
that Herod, although called king of Judea, was de- 
pendent upon the Roman emperor, and tributary to 
him: consequently, such an enrolment might be made, 
in virtue of a decree of Augustus, and yet be deemed 
no infringement upon the rights of these subordinate 
rulers. Josephus speaks of an oath of allegiance to 
Herod and to Augustus, which his countrymen took 
about this time; and it is more than probable, that he 
means the same thing with that which Luke states 
under the denomination of a register. The time of 
this enrolment is stated to be when "Cy renins was 
governor of Syria.*'' 

Upon this occasion came Joseph and Mary to Beth- 
lehem. The immense conflux of people liad filled all 
the inns, and all the houses of public reception; so that 
they were compelled to lodge in a stable, where the 
mother of Jesus was delivered of t-he Savior of the 
world! The inns of the East, at this day, are large 
square buildings, usually only one story high, with a 
spacious court in the centre of them* Into this court 
you enter through a wide gate, and on the right and 
left hand, you perceive rooms that are appointed as 
lodgings for travellers. Those that come first take 
the rooms which they prefer: but must provide them- 
selves both with a couch and provision: for the rooms 
are perfectly naked, and contain no sort of furniture 
whatever. 

"My kingdom is not of this world," said the Savior: 
and he spake a truth capable of many and decisive 
evidences. His very entrance into the world announc- 

• In Gardner's Cred. Vol. li, c. 1. the reader may find an inexhftustibl* 
fund of criticism and sound learning, upon this circumstance. 

42 



330 

ed it. It would ill have become Him, who was to con- 
verse with every possible scene of misery, to have 
made his appearance amid the shouts of thousands 
prostrate before him. No palace supported by col- 
umns of marble, and perfumed with the incense of 
Arabia, sheltered his holy head. No vestments of 
purple interwoven with gold, shaded his tender limbs. 
No bending attendants received the weeping babe from 
his mother's arms. No trumpet was blown through 
the regions of Judeato declare the birth of "the King 
of the Jews," or to announce the expectations of the 
heir to the throne of David. The world frowned up- 
en him from the beginning. Poverty was the hand- 
maid who waited upon him at his birth, as scorn fol- 
lowed him through all his days. The Savior and the 
brute reposed under one common roof, and were driv- 
en to the same shed. Even then, when he first opened 
his eyes upon the light, their meek intelligence seemed 
to say, "My kingdom is not of this world!'' 

Yet was he not destitute of honor. Heaven ac- 
knowledged the Sovereign whom man rejected. When 
the First-begotten was brought into the world it was 
said, "Let all the angels of God worship him." They 
hastened to announce the "glad tidings" to "shepherds 
keeping watch over their flocks at night." They sang, 
"Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, good 
will to men." They became the first preachers of the 
gospel. On that memorable night, amid their "con- 
stellations," they proclaimed the event, 



•As earth asleep, unconscious lay. 



*'And struck their spangled lyresl' 

Nor is this relation more remarkable than that which 
follows, and which is well attested by the authority of 



361 

others writers. Strangers from the East, of no mean 
lineage, and of no mean attainments, came inquiring 
"Where is he who is born King of the Jews? for we 
have seen his star in the East, and are come to wor- 
ship him." A few inquiries are necessary in order 
to illustrate and to establish this fact. 

1. Who were these strangers? They are called 
"wise men,'' or Magi.* Some have thought that they 
were magicians. Indeed in this sense only, it appears, 
the original word is used in other parts of the scrip- 
tures. Simon the sorcerer is so called: so also is Ely- 
mas. If they are to be considered in this light, then 
were the instruments of Satan turned against him: 
they foreboded ' the shaking of his empire, and ac- 
knowledged the dawn of that day when "he fell as 
lightning from heaven:" and they are the first fruits 
of the Savior's victory over the agents of darkness. 
We are disposed however to accord with our transla- 
tors, and to affix another interpretation to the term, 
by considering them as scholars. The Magi of the 
Persians were priests as well as philosophers: the exr 
pounders of their laws, human and divine: nor would 
they suffer any man to be a king, who was not first 
enrolled among the Magi. This fact, probably, gave 
rise to the tradition of the Roman church, that they 
were kings. It is evident that they were Gentiles; and 
these are the first pledges of the rending of the veil: of 
the breaking dow^n the wall of partition; and of the 
abolition of the distinctions which had so long existed 
between the Jew and the Gentile. They were also 
^wise men:^^ men not easily deceived. Well acquaint- 
ed with the face of the heavens, and with the bodies 



Muyof, 



332 

of light which revolve there, they were not drawn 
from their native country to Jerusalem, without a con- 
viction that the appearance upon which they gazed 
was an extraordinary one, and that the light which 
they followed portended some great event. 

2. What was this star? It was not one of those 
stars which have been from the beginning of the crea- 
tion, either regular or erratic: otherwise it had not been 
an indication of any thing new. When they said we 
have seen his star, the most natural construction 
which we can put upon the words is, that they then 
beheld it for the first time. It differed in every respect 
from all the heavenly bodies in the known planetary 
system. They shine with an equal blaze: this proba- 
bly had a superior lustre. They are distant, and 
move remotely through the fields of ether: this was 
nearer the earth, that it might answer the purpose as- 
signed it. They have a circular motion: this describ- 
ed no orbit. They are permanently fixed: this, hav- 
ing conducted the Magi to the Savior's feet, disappear- 
ed for ever. Comets were always held by the ancients 
as prognostications of extraordinary events, good or 
bad. They have made emperors tremble on their 
thrones, and have nerved the arm of soldiers for the 
battle. But this was a luminous appearance, resem- 
bling in shape, figure, and splendor, a heavenly body, 
so completely, as to justify the appellation of a star — 
yet was it so expressly formed for the purpose of con- 
ducting them to the Redeemer, that they called it un- 
equivocally, "/izs star." 

3. Of what country were they? I should 
translate the passage, ''We, of the East, have seen his 
star" — in which case the term, East, will not be used 
to specify the part of the heavens in \yhich the star ap- 



333 

peared, but the country from which they came.* Per- 
haps from Mesopotamia, the country of Balaiuii, 
whose singular prophecy was probably handed down 
to them by tradition — '* There shall come a star out of 
Jacob:" and there might appear to them a singular 
coincidence between the prediction, and the phenome- 
non which they witnessed. Their gifts were Arabian 
— '"gold, frankincense, and myrrh." Their title. Magi, 
is Persian: and they, of all nations, were likely to be 
best acquainted with the Messiah, through the proph- 
ecies of Daniel. If they came from Arabia Felix, or 
Sebaea, all of which are east of Jerusalem, and wxrc 
fnen of rank, then was the prophecy of David fulfilled, 
^*the kings of Sheba and of Seba shall bring gifts." 

4. By what evidence is this fact supported? 
piiny speaks of "a certain splendid comet, scattering 
its silver hair, and appearing a god in the midst of 
men." Chalcidius writes of *'the rising of a certain 
star, not denouncing death and diseases, but the de- 
scent of a mild and compassionate God to human 
Converse."t 

i Thus were the prophecies of the East re-echoed by 
the western world. The whole globe slumbered in 
undisturbed tranquillity. The Jews, although tributa- 
ry to Rome, took their harps from the willows, to sing 
the approach of Messiah the prince. Samaria had 
caught the contagion, and was looking for the Christ, 
who should '^teach us all things." The weeks predict- 
ed by Daniel were accomplished; and the universal 
expectation may be conjectured, when impostors avail- 
ed themselves of the state of the people's mind to 

• See note 2, of this Lecture, at the end of the volume, 
t See note 3, of this Lecture, at ll;e end of the voliin^.e. 



334 

personate the Messiah,* and when strangers journey- 
ed from the East to Jerusalem in quest of him. 

The Magi came to the court of Herod, expecting 
there to have found the babe, who was to be the king 
of the Jew^s. Their inquiry alarmed the jealousy of 
this monarch: and in consequence of it, when he 
learned that Christ was to be born in Bethlehem, "he 
sent and slew all the children in Bethlehem, and in the 
coast thereof, from two years old and under." This, 
alas, was public enough! The voice of lamentation in 
Rama, when Rachel wept for her children because 
they were not, surely was loud; and the history of the 
Evangelists would have been blasted for ever in the 
eyes of their contemporaries, had they attempted im- 
position in so public an event. But Josephus does 
not record this slaughter. We answer, that Josephus, 
who wrote about seventy years after this event, drew 
all his history from the public records; and we may 
imagine that an act so cruel, and so inglorious to the 
memory of Herod, would hardly be transmitted to 
posterity through the medium of a public record. But 
Josephus does record many instances of the cruelty 
of Herod: is it therefore an objection to Matthew, 
that he records one more^ Josephus relates those 
things which appertained immediately to state affairs: 
Matthew, those only connected with Jesus Christ, 
The history is not at all improbable, from the general 
character of Herod, who was one of the most sanguina- 
ry tyrants that ever disgraced humanity. Is it proba- 
ble, that he who slew Hyrcanus, his wife's grandfather, 
at the age of eighty, and who on a former occasion 
had saved Ms life: who publiciy executed his lovely and 

* Acts. V, 36, c>7<. 



335 

viFtuous partner;* and who privately slaughtered three 
of his own children; and all these on principles of jeal- 
ousy, should, on the same principles, be sparing of the 
blood of the children of others? In his last illness, a little 
before he died, he convened all the chief men of Judeaj 
and after having shut them up in the Circus, he called his 
family together, and said — "I know that the Jews will 
rejoice at my death. You ha ve these men in your 
custody. So soon as I am dead, and before it can 
be known publicly, let in the soldiers upon them, and 
kill them! All Judea, and every family, will then, al- 
though unwillingly, mourn at my death !"t "Nay^ — 
adds Josephus, — "with tears in his eyes, he conjured 
them by their love to him, and by their fidelity to 
God, not to fail to obey his orders!" — We ask, wheth- 
er, upon a consideration of this monster's disposition^ 
such a deed as that ascribed to him by Matthew is 
improbable? — Macrobius, an heathen author, who 
flourished at the close of the fourth century, asserts it 
as a fact well known and indisputable. 

That our Savior had been in Egypt, is so far from 
being denied, that it is asserted by Celsus, who affirms 
that there he learned the arts of magic, to which he 
imputes his miracles. 

The testimony of Josephus to the life of Christ is 
as follows: 

"At this time there was one Jesus, a wise man, if 1 
may call him a man: for he did most wonderful works, 
and was a teacher of those who received the truth with 

* Mariamne. 
t Testimonies of Josephus to the cruel disposition, of Herod, manifes- 
ted especially in his last moments. Jos. de Bello Jud. Tom. II. hb. i. 
Cap. xxxiii. p. 1041. Hudson! edi. see also Jos. de Aniiq. Jud, Tom, 11. 
Kib. xvii. Cap. vii. p. 769; kc- 



336 

delight. He won many to his persuasion, both of the 
Jews, and of the Gentiles. This was Christ; and 
although he was, at the instigation of some of our na- 
tion, and by Pilate's sentence, suspended on the cross, 
yet those who lovtd him at the first, did not cease so 
to do: for he came to life again the third day, and ap- 
peared to them. A-id to this day, there remains a 
sect of men, who from him have the name of Chris- 
tians."* We claim this, as the testimony of a learned, 
yet bigoted Jew! In this short passage is a corrobora- 
tion of all the prominent declarations of the gospel 
respecting the Savior — his teaching — his death — at the 
instigation of the Jews — by the judgment of Pilate — 
on the cross — his resurrection — on the third day — his 
appearance to his followers — and their unshaken at- 
tachment to him. 

We are told by Matthew, that the fame of our Sav- 
ior during his life was reverberated throughout all Sy- 
ria; and that there followed him, great multitudes 
from Galilee, Judea, Decapolis, Idumaea, from beyond 
Jordan, and from Tyre and Sidon. Had the records 
of these countries remained, or were the works of 
their historians extant, we might expect a large confir- 
mation of the gospel history. However, the evidence 
which we shall produce to our Savior's life and min- 
istry must be admitted on all hands, because we shall 
take the testimony of three enemies. Julian, com- 
monly called the apostate, acknowledges that Jesus 
and his disciples performed many wonderful works; 
and he therefore calls the Savior an eminent magician. 
Porphyry allows that evil spirits were subject to him: 
for he says, that "after Jesus was worshipped, Escula- 
pius and the other gods did no more converse with 

* See note 5 of this Lecture, at the end of the volume. 



387 

men/' Celsus, unabie to dispute the miracles of Je- 
sus Christ, also flies to that childish plea, the imputa- 
tion of them to magic. The Jews themselves likewise, 
when they could not controvert the gospel history, 
nor deny these facts, ascribed them to Beelzebub. 

We have the same evidences relative to the death 
of Jesus. We can produce the universal testimony 
of ancient writers, that at the time of our Lord's life 
and sufferings, the rulers mentioned in the Evangelists 
by their name, actually were the governors of the 
day. One authentic heathen record, which is now 
lost, but the remembrance of which is perfectly 
preserved, and the existence of which can be clearly 
proved, was the account written by the governor of 
Judea, under whom our Lord was judged, condemn- 
ed, and crucified. It was customary at Rome, as in- 
deed it is in every empire to the present hour, for the 
prefects and rulers of distant provinces, t© transmit to 
their sovereign, a summary relation of all the extraor- 
dinary events in their administration. That Pontius 
Pilate should send such an account to Rome, cannot 
be doubted: that he really did, is evident from the fol- 
lowing testimony. Justin Martyr, who lived about 
a century after our Savior's death, and who suffered 
martyrdom in Rome, was engaged in a controversy 
with the philosophers at large, and particularly with 
Crescens the cynic. In this controversy he challenged 
Crescens to dispute the cause of Christianity with 
him before the R^oman senate. It is not to be believed 
that Crescens would have declined the contest, or have 
lost the opportunity of exposing his adversary before 
so august a body, if he could have triumphed over 
him in the detection of any palpable forgeries in the 

writings of the Evangelists, relative to either the life 
48 



33S 

or the death of our Lord. This father in his Apology, 
speaking of the death and sufferings of the Savior, re- 
fers the emperor, for the truth of his assertions, to the 
acts of Pontius Pilate. Tertullian, who wrote his 
Apology about fifty years after Justin, says, that the 
emperor Tiberius, having received an account out of 
Palestine in Syria of the divine person who appeared 
in that country, paid him a particular regard, ^.nd 
threatened to punish any who should accuse the Chris- 
tians: nay, that the emperor would have admitted him 
among the number of the deities whom he worship- 
ped, had not the senate refused their consent. Ter- 
tullian was one of the most learned men of his age, 
and well skilled in the laws of the Roman empire.* 
The acts of Pilate now extant, are spurious: for those 
to which we refer as authentic, had perished before 
the days of Eusebius, although they are mentioned 
by him. 

The death of our Lord, and the manner of it, under 
Pontius Pilate, and in the reign of Tiberius, are men- 
tioned both by Tacitus and Lucian. 

The last melancholy scenes of the Savior's suffer- 
ings are also fully attested. The gospel history esi- 
actly coincides with the Jewish, and with the Roman 
customs; and the circumstances attending his dying 
agonies are universally admitted. Behold the Lord 
of life and glory hanging upon a cross! There could 
be no deception. He really suffered, he really died. 
The blood which stained his body, and moistened the 
ground, was his own heart's blood; and the tears 
which fell from his eyes, were the bitter tears of real 
and unspeakable sorrow. ''The sun beheld it — no, the 
shocking scene drove back his chariot!" Nature sym- 

* See Addison's Evidences of the Christian Religion; also note 6, of 
this Lecture, at the end of the volume. 



339 

pathized with the expiring Redeemer, and heaVen 
withdrew its light. Jesus suffered on the day in 
which the passover is eaten. This feast is kept on the 
fourteenth day of the month; and according to the 
Jewish mode of reckoning from the first appearance 
of the moon after her change, it fell on the very day 
in which she was at the fall. An eclipse of the sun 
can only take place when the moon is between it and 
the earth; or in other words, at what we call a new 
moon: but at the full, the moon is in the side of the 
heavens opposite to the sun, and we are between the 
two bodies: there could be therefore no natural eclipse 
of the sun at the time of the crucifixion. Another 
evidence, that it was a supernatural eclipse, level to 
every understanding, is, that in common eclipses the 
sun's total darkness can continue but twelve or fifteen 
minutes at most; but this awful darkness lasted no 
less than three hours! How far the darkness extended 
cannot now be easily decided: the following evidence, 
we think, proves that it was very general: — Phlegon, 
the famous astronomer under the emperor Trajan, 
said, that "in the fourth year of the 202 Olympiad,'' 
which was that of the death of Christ, "there was 
such a total eclipse of the sun at noon-day, that the 
stars were plainly visible."*— .Suidas also says, that 
Dionysius the Areopagite, who was then at Heliopolis 
in Egypt, upon this surprising phenomenon exclaimed, 
"Either the Author of Nature is suffering, or he sym- 
pathizes with some one who does — or the frame of 
the world is dissolving!" Josephus bears witness to 
the rending the veil of the temple; and to this day, in 
the church of the Sepulchre, which stands oq Mount 

* Sep note 7, of ihls Lecture, at the end of the volurae. 



340 

Calvary, is to be seen a cleft in the rock said to be 
occasioned by the earthquake: which cannot certainly 
be proved — but it is evident, that the chasm is natural, 
and not the effect of art; and that the rock was rent 
by some violent commotions of the earth. 

After the decease of our Lord, Joseph of Arimathea 
went to Pilate, and petitioned for the body, which 
was granted to him. This rich man deposited it in 
his own "new tomb, in which never man was laid." 
Of course, should a resurrection take place, it must be 
that of Jesus; it could be of no other person. 1 he 
chief priests, alarmed possibly at the awful convulsions 
which accompanied his death, requested and obtained 
permission of Pilate to set a watch over the tomb. 
They shrouded their own fears under a pretended 
concern lest the people should be deceived. We have 
accompanied the Savior to the tomb, we have seen it 
sealed, w^e have left a Roman guard at the mouth of 
the sepulchre; and let the chief priests produce the 
body on, or after, the third day in order to silence 
the clamors of the deluded multitude. This, howev- 
er, is not done. The plenitude of their malice was 
not equal to the war which they attempted to wage 
against the high decrees of Heaven. 

The Evangelists assert that on the third day Jesus 
arose: and they tell a regular, plain, unvarnished tale. 
Let us now examine the principles on which the res- 
urrection of Jesus is opposed. 

The body was not in the sepulchre on the third day. 
Let the guards give an account of the loss of it — they 
and they alone are answerable for it. Only one ac- 
count was ever attempted to be palmed upon the 
world— "His disciples came, and stole him while we 
slept." Now observe, 



341 

1. The guards appointed over the sepulchre were 
Roman guards; since it will appear by the sequel of 
this history that they were subject to Pilate, and under 
his control; which would not have been the case had 
they been Jews, but they would have been answera- 
ble to the rulers of that nation. Now, it was death 
for a Roman soldier to sleep upon his watch: there- 
fore had they been really overpowered with slumber, 
they would rather have feigned a miracle, when the 
minds of their employers were so well prepared to 
receive it, to save themselves from the punishment 
legally due to their crime, than have openly avowed 
it, had not higher powers said, "We will secure you." 
We have more instances than one upon record of jail- 
ors suffering death for the loss of their prisoners. 

2. If the guards were really asleep, how came they 
to be so positive as to the persons who stole the body? 
On what principle could they affirm that the disciples 
were the depredators? I suppose that this is the first 
and the last instance in which men ever attempted to 
give evidence on a transaction which took place when 
they were confessedly asleep: or were ever called upon 
for such a purpose. 

3. Why were not the disciples immediately appre- 
hended and made to restore the body? It was indis- 
putably the duty of the chief priests to produce it after 
the third day publicly in a state of death, and thus 
for ever to silence the pretensions of a deceiver. Did 
the enemies of Jesus lack either power or influence, to 
rescue a dead body from twelve unarmed, poor, de- 
fenceless men, had they seriously entertained even a 
suspicion that his disciples had stolen him? Did not 
the matter die away as soon as possible? Was there 
even any inquiry made into the affair? Did not the 



34« 

disciples boldly, and openly, preach the resurrection 
of Jesus, in defiance of the threatenings of the Jews? 

4. Is it probable that the timid, unbelieving disciples 
of Jesus Christ should have the rashness to attack a 
band of Roman soldiers; or to venture into the sepul- 
chre, even had they slumbered? We feel that we have 
reason to complain of the want of candor in infidelity 
in urging its objections against Christianity. Fair and 
open ground is relinquished for finesse and quibbling. 
The disciples are sometimes portrayed mean and timid 
men, to expose them to contempt: but when it serves 
the purpose of skepticism, they are represented, wise, 
prudent, designing, courageous, enterprising; and more 
is ascribed to them than human power ever yet per- 
formed. Now they cannot have too opposite charac- 
ters; and we hold infidelity to the gospel history, and 
to its own concessions, that they were plain, unin- 
formed, timid, unbelieving men. Were these charac- 
ters to attack a legion of Roman soldiers successfully? 

5. Could this immense stone have been rolled 
away, and the body removed, without noise and con- 
fusion sufficient to break their slumbers? Surely, they 
must have been dead, and not asleep! 

6. Would the disciples, had they stolen the body, 
have remained to lay the linen clothes in order — as 
they were found? Is it probable that amid the confu- 
sion which such a circumstance supposes, that they 
would either have had leisure, or inclination, or even 
presence of mind, for such an arrangement? 

7. Have we not proved that heathen writers, and 
even enemies, admitted the fact of our Savior's mira- 
cles, although they ascribed them to a false cause? 
Are there not in the gospels four successive instances 
©f his raising the dead, uncontroverted? And is his 



343 

own resurrection more wonderful than these? or than 
that of the sleeping saints at his death? Upon the 
whole, then, the resurrection of Jesus never was op- 
posed at the time by an objection that demanded a 
moments serious consideration: while the evidences in 
favor of it, are numerous, respectable, and decisive. 
"For I delivered unto you, first of all that which I also 
received: how that Christ died for our sins according to 
the scriptures; and that he was buried, and that he 
rose again the third day according to the scriptures: 
and that he was seen of Cephas, then of the twelve. 
After that he was seen of above five hundred breth- 
ren at once: of whom the greater part remain unto 
this present, but some are fallen asleep. After that he 
was seen of James; then of all the apostles. And last 
of all, he was seen of me also, as of one born out 
of due time.'^ These witnesses were numerous and 
respectable; and they afterwards proved their sincerity 
by laying down their lives for their testimony. 

Forty days he shewed himself alive, by "many in- 
fallible proofs:" at the expiration of which he ascend- 
ed to glory. The disciples were eye-witnesses of this 
also. Their sincerity they shewed in their sufferings^ 
and it was not a point in which they could be deceiv- 
ed. In things which fall under the eye, the clown is 
as good a witness as the philosopher; and in plain 
matter of fact, the illiterate are as capable of judging 
as the learned. The consequences of his ascension 
were seen in the pouring out of the Holy Spirit upon 
them, in a public manner, on a public occasion: and 
the power then conferred of working miracles, was a 
standing evidence of the truth of what they preached 
for nearly a century. I'his event sufficiently accounts^ 
for the subsequent wisdom and courage of the natur- 



344 

ally illiterate and timid disciples. Such arc the evi- 
dences by which the life, death, resurrection, and as- 
cension of Jesus Christ are supported, as matters of 
fact: whether they be decisive and satisfactory, you 
must determine. 

That the immediate disciples of Jesus Christ did 
meet together for the purposes assigned in the sacred 
scriptures, may be proved from the testimony of 
Pliny the younger: who says that '^Christ was wor- 
shipped as a God among the Christians: that they 
would rather suffer death than blaspheme him: that 
they received a sacrament, and by it entered into a 
vow of abstaining from sin and wickedness, conform- 
ing to the advice of Paul; that they had private as- 
semblies of worship, and used to sing together in 
hymns."* This account was written about seventy 
years after our Savior's crucifixion. 

Quadratus, who was converted to Christianity, was 
a celebrated Athenian philosopher; and he says, that 
'^those whom our Savior raised and healed, were not 
only seen while he himself was upon earth, but sur- 
vived after his departure out of the world." ''Nay," 
adds he, "some of them were living in our days." 
And both TertuUian and Arnobius assert, the conver- 
sion of multitudes of learned men, from the simple 
conviction of the truth of Christianity, arising from ev- 
idences then within their reach, and from personal 
knowledge.! 

We conceive that by this time, you will be ready to 
admit the truth of the apostle's assertion which we 
read to you at the opening of this Lecture: "We have 

*See Addison's Evidences. See also note 8, of this Lecture, at the end 
of the volume. 
t Aristides and others. 



345 

iioit followepi canningly devised fables, when we ra^de 
known unto you the power 9,nd coming of our Lord 
Jesus Christ, but were eye-witnesses of his majesty." 
And now it is only necessary to observe, that fleve- 
lotion is to us, what the star was to the wise n^en. 

1. In its nature. It is a Jight shining in a dark 
plac^. It is the "day-spring from on high visiting us." 
What a world was this before it arose! The shadows 
of ten thousand midnights could not have made ^ 
gloom so horrible; and the blackness that veiled Egypt 
three long day^ and nights^ was light in comparison 
of this irksome, impenetrable obscurity. The trem- 
bling, feeble ray of reason, served only to make dark- 
ness visible; and the proud discoveries of philosophy 
shone only through the night as the twinkling of a 
taper, to expire when the sun arose. No cheering 
beam illumined either hemisphere, till this morning 
star was seen in the East, as the harbinger of perfect 
day. Then the shout was heard — ''The people that 
walked in darkness have seen a great light; upon them 
that dwell in the land of the shadow of death hath 
the light shined." It resembled the star. 

2. In its source. It is remarkable that all intel- 
ligence came first from the East. — Science there un- 
covered all the effulgence of her radiant head, while 
the West was in darkness. There w^as the first man- 
ifestation of God; and long, very long, was this light 
confined to her bordei's. A night of superstition and 
of ignorance brooded on the world, while the descend- 
ants of Abraham (who vvas himself from the East) 
enjoyed the light of truth. In every respect the lands 
lying under the rising sun have ever had the start of 
us; and we have been satisfied to be their disciples. 
Our language, cold and torpid in itself, has borrowed 

44 



Sid 

imagery from theirs. We have learned from them, 
in our eloquence, to thunder with the storm: to rush 
with the torrent: to glide with the river: to murmur 
with the rill; and to whisper with the breeze. From 
them came this volume fraught with intelligence; and 
Revelation, like the guiding star, arose in the East. 

3. In its object it resembles this star. Jesus 
Christ is the sum and substance of this book. Oblit- 
erate his name from these sacred pages, and you have 
extinguished their light, destroyed their vigor, derang- 
ed their harmony, and defaced their beauty. There 
is not a particle of information treasured up here, that 
does not, more nearly or remotely, in some way, re- 
late to him. Not a prophecy, not an history, not a 
miracle, not a doctrine, not a precept, not an epistle, that 
is not united, by some invisible thread, to the Messiah, 
The express design of this record is to make us ac- 
quainted with him: to discover what he has done: to 
enforce what he has said: to declare what he expects: 
to testify of ^'the King of the Jews." 

4. In ITS ISSUE Revelation resembles this star. It 
had no sooner led these saofes to the feet of Jesus Christ, 
than it disappeared for ever. The Bible safely con- 
ducts us to Christ, but not immediately. It therefore 
remains to guide our erring feet through this world, as 
the passage to his more immediate presence. It is 
necessary to discover the thousand dangers of the way, 
and the difficulties which we must surmount. But 
when we shall have arrived at our Father's house: when 
we shall see him, eye to eye, aiid face to face; when 
we are are safely conducted to the place Where he is: 
having fulfilled its commission, and answered its des-^ 
ti nation J this stsur also shall disappear. 



347 

O may we see him as our Prince and Lord! see 
him — not as did Balaam when he reluctantly predicted 
his coming, and said, "I shall see him, but not now: I 
shall behold him, but not nigh!" — See him — not as 
did the Jews, who discerned no form nor comeliness 
in him; who saw no beauty that they should desire him; 
and who refused their king! See him — not as Herod, 
who desired to subvert his cause, and to take away 
his life — not with an envious, malignant eye: but see 
him — as did these sages, who fell down at his feet and 
worshipped him: — embrace him — as did Simeon, when 
he was about to die; and behold him — where he un- 
veils all the splendors of his face, and fills the temple 
of God with light, life, and his unclouded presence! 



LteCTURE XIII. 

THE CHARACTER OF THE WRITERS OF THE OLD 
AND NEW TESTAMENTS. 

1 John i, 1 — 3. 
That which was from the beginning, which we have 
heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which 
we have looked upon, and our hands have handled 
ofthefjDordoflife; (For the life was manifested, 
and we have seen it, and bear witness, and shew 
unto yoii that eternal life, which was with the Fath- 
er, and was manifested unto us;) That which we 
have seen and heard, declare we unto you, that ye 
also may have fellowship with us: and truly our 
fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son 
Jesus Christ. 

Heb. XI, 36— 38. 

And others had trial of cruel mockings, and scourg- 
ings, yea, moreover of bonds and imprisonment. 
They were stoned, they were sawn asunder, were 
tempted, were slain with the sword: they wandered 
about in sheep-skins^ and goat-skins, being desti- 
tute, afflicted, tormented: (of whom the world was 
not worthy:) they wandered in deserts, and in 
mountains, and in dens, and in caves of the earth, 

WHAT a sensation must the ascension of the Savior 
have excited in heaven and upon earth! what interest 
in the bosoms of some, what emotions of fear and of 
rage in the hearts of others! what were the reflections 



349 

of all parties upon this wonderful and impressive event? 
Had the chief priests then seen him, (and it is not im- 
possible that from the tops of their houses at Jerusa- 
lem they might see him) they would have gnashed 
their teeth with envy and indignation, and disappoint- 
ment, iand have said — ^Is this the despised carpenter's 
son, whom we crucified? Is this the man whom 
We endeavored to confine in the grave? Is this the 
cause which we hoped to subvert? Is this the teacher 
whom we labored to destroy? O fruitless efforts! 
He rises superior to all our designs He triumphs 
^ver all our malice!' But what did the disciples 
think? Were they not saying in their hearts, ^Is this 
the friend upon whose kind and disinterested counsels 
we have so long relied? Is this the expiring "Author 
and Finisher of our faith," whom our unbelieving 
fears thought to be "dead, but who is alive again, and 
will live for evermore?' " John would ask, 'Is this the 
Savior who permitted me to share his confidence, and 
to repose my head upon his bosom?' Thomas would 
inquire, 'Can this be the man, of whom my faithless 
heart said, Except I shall see in his hands the print of 
the nails, and put my fingers into the print of the naik. 
and thrust my hands into his side, I will not believe?' 
Prostrate and weeping on the mount, Peter would say, 
'Is this the master w^hom I denied, and for whom I 
dared not endure a little affliction? Is this he who 
raised me from my vile employment, and admitted me 
into his glorious service; but whom I feared to own, 
what day my false tongue said, "I know not the man?" 
And am I, who was afraid to ^ watch with him one 
hour,' and ashamed to l)e called his disciple, permitted 
to behold his glory, to participate his parting blessing, 
atid to share the dignity of his exaltation? — "To me, 
who am less than the least of all saints is this sracf 



350 

given?''— Would they not all say— 'From this mo- 
ment we give our fears to the four winds of heaven? 
*'Lord we believe, help thou our unbelief!" We wait 
the accomplishment of thy promise, and hail the dawn 
of thy empire!' And while these were gazing below, 
lost in wonder, in love, and in admiration, were not 
the angels answering each other in responsive lays? 
*^He hath ascended up on high! he hath led captivity 
captive! he hath received gifts for men! yea, for the 
rebellious also, that the Lord God may dwell among 
them!" He ascended higher, and they renewed their 
song — "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth 
peace, good will toward men!" As he still continued 
to rise, and gradually to lose sight of the earth, "the 
chariots of God, which are twenty thousand, even 
thousands of angels," waited to receive him: the celes- 
tial harps were struck yet louder; and the full chorus 
shouted, "Lift up your heads, O ye gates, and be ye 
lift up, ye everlasting doors, and the King of glory 
shall come in! Who is this King of glory? The Lord, 
strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle! Lift up 
your heads, O ye gates, even lift them up, ye everlast- 
ing doors, and the King of glory shall come in! Who is 
this King of glory? The Lord of hosts, he is the King 
of glory!" And now all the resplendent scene faded 
through distance from mortal vision. Him, the heavens 
received; and he sat down on his Father's throne. 
Even then, did not a voice break from the most excel- 
lent glory, the voice of God heard and adored by all 
the armies of heaven? "This is my beloved Son, in 
whom I am well pleased; and let all the angels of God 
worship him. Thy throne, O God, is for ever and 
ever; a sceptre of righteousness is the sceptre of thy 
kingdom. Ask of me, and I shall give thee the heath- 



351 

tn for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the 
earth for thy possession!'' Still were the disciples riv- 
etted to the spot whence he ascended: still were their 
eyes fixed on the point in the heavens where he disap- 
peared: still his voice sounded in their ears, and they 
seemed to listen to his parting blessing. "And while 
they looked steadfastly toward heaven as he went up, 
behold two men stood by them in white apparel; 
which also said, Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gaz- 
ing up into heaven? This same Jesus which is taken 
from you up into heaven, shall so come in like man- 
ner as ye have seen him go into heaven." And they 
returned unto Jerusalem: but as they left the hallow- 
ed mount, surely their hearts burned within them, and 
they said — "Blessed b^ the Lord God, the God of 
Israel, who only doeth wondrous things! And blessed 
be his glorious name for ever; and let the whole earth 
be filled with his glory. Amen, and amen!" 

But we must now turn away from this great sight, 
and follow these same men through the scenes of their 
subsequent lives. We must also examine the conduct 
of those w^ho led the way under the former dispensa- 
tion, and from whose writings the mission and the 
claims of Jesus w^ere proved; and it is our business 
this evening to present you with an outline of the 

CHARACTER OF THE WRITERS OF THE OlD AND New 

TESTAMENTS. Listcu to the discussiou of a few sim- 
ple propositions upon this subject. We assert 

I. THAT THE BOOKS OF THE OLD AND NEW TESTA- 
MENTS WERE REALLY W^RITTEN BY THOSE WHOSE 
NAMES THEY BEAR. 

We can attempt to prove this position only upon 
one common principle of reasoning, which will, how- 



352 

ever be deemed conclusive. It is the testimony of 
the people to whom these oracles were comniitted, and 
the concurrent consent of all nations. A large pro- 
portion of this volume consists of the public chrpiai- 
cles of a whole empire; and there is an end of the good 
faith of nations if they admit forgeries into their pub- 
lic records: the very sources from which the historian 
draws are contaminated. With respect to the la^5 of 
Moses, the books of the respective prophets, the hi sto- 
ry of the gospels, and the epistles of the New Testa- 
ment, they are allow^ed by the very persons among 
whom, and for w^hom, they were written, to be the 
productions of those very nien whose najcnes are pre- 
fixed to them. The testimony of any man respecting 
the historians or the poets of his own country, and 
especially the testimony of a whole body of people res- 
pecting their own writers, ought to be deemed deci- 
sive; because they, and they only, are competent wit- 
nesses in the affair. Now these men were Jews; and 
we have the testimony of the whole Jewish nation, 
handed down from father to son through all succes- 
sive generations, from the periods when the different 
writers flourished to the present hour, that such and 
such books, were, according totheir pretensions, really 
written by such and such persons, to whom they are 
ascribed; and all nations have concurred, at every 
point of time, in this testimony. These writers ever 
have been acknowledged b}^ them; and the chronology 
of their works, for the most part, has been accurately 
determined. No man who pretends to reason can 
deny his assent to such evidence. He who can bring 
himself to reject such authority, may with equal pro- 
priety conclude that the productions of Homer or of 
Virgil, of Demosthenes, or of Cicero, are not really the 



353 

writings of the distinguished poets and orators whose 
names they bear. For these rest precisely upon the 
same evidence, which we now produce in favor of the 
sacred records — the testimony of their contemporaries, 
and of their countrymen, and the concurrent consent 
of all nations. Deny this authority in the one case, 
and you must necessarily destroy it in the other: 
neither can you (to be consistent) believe w ith any 
degree of certainty, any thing but that which falls 
within the immediate sphere of your own knowledge. 
To follow this principle what a fund of genius and of 
information must be destroyed! We must blot out the 
works of all our historians, on the pretence that they 
need decisive evidence; and human intelligence must 
be drawn from the scanty springs of three-score years 
and ten, furnished by a man's own life. But if the 
testimony of a people respecting their own wTiters, and 
the general consent of nations, be any thing: if this be 
the authority upon which we receive all works, and 
all writers: if this be the basis of all our historical cer- 
tainty: then, is it ceded to the writers of the Bible, and 
ori this general principle must it be admitted, that the 
books of the Old and New Testaments were really 
written by those whose names they bear. We affirm 

II. THAT THE WRITERS WERE, FOR THE MOST PART, 
EYE-WITNESSES OF THE FACTS WHICH THEY RECORD- 
ED. 

There is a suiTicient degree of internal evidence, de- 
ducible from the different compositions uyeniselves, to 
establish this assertion. Examine the first five books of 
the scriptures, audit w^ill appear that Moses was neces- 
sarily an eye witness of most of the events recorded 

in his law. He was present during ail the plagues of 
45 



454 

Egypt, and was constituted the great agent in produc- 
ing them. He saw the water transformed into blood — 
the pestilence which destroyed the cattle — the insects 
which covered thecountry-the protracted night which 
brooded over the whole empire, Goshen excepted — 
and he heard the cry of despair sound from all quar- 
ters, re echoed from the palace to the prison, when the 
first-born were slain. He was an eye-witness to the 
deliverance of the Israelites, and to their miraculous 
journey through the wilderness. He saw the fire 
which encircled Mount Sinai, and the cloud which 
rested upon its summit: he heard the terrible thunder- 
ings, and the more fearful voice of God. He beheld 
every fact which he relates till they reached the very 
borders of Canaan. When he died, Joshua took the 
command of Israel's armies, and recorded events as 
they transpired, till he also was laid in the dust of death. 
The books of Judges, of Ruth, of Samuel, of the 
Kings, and Chronicles, although the compositions of 
different persons, were evidently, from their style, writ- 
ten at the time, and on the spot, where the events 
which they relate took place. This is manifest, from 
the simplicity of the narrations, and the appeal both to 
persons and to things then well known, the remem- 
brance of which is now lost. Moreover, we are inces- 
santly referred in the historical parts of the scriptures 
to books which are no longer extant, but which were 
then unquestionably esteemed faithful records; and this 
very circumstance proves at once the antiquity, the ve- 
racity, and tKd'' preservation of the Bible. Precisely 
on the same ground is the New Testament recommend- 
ed to us. Listen to the language of the apostles them- 
selves. *'That which was from the beginning, which 
we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, 



355 

which we have looked upon, and our hands have 
handled of the word of life — declare we unto you!" 
We maintain, 

III. THAT THE THINGS WHICH THEY EID NOT SEE, 
THEY DERIVED FROM THE MOST CERTAIN EVIDENCES, 
AND DREW FROM THE PUREST SOURCES. 

If a man be incompetent to record any thing but 
that which he sees, history is altogether useless. But 
a satisfactory degree of certainty is attainable on events 
of which we were not eye-witnesses; and no one in 
this assembly doubts the signing of Magna Charta, or 
the battle of Agincourt, any more than if he had stood 
by, and seen the one fought, and the seals affixed to 
the other. We owe much to the integrity of others; 
and the mutual confidence on which society is found- 
ed, requires with justice our assent to thousands of 
events, which transpired long before we were born, on 
which, if contemporary with ourselves, were transact- 
ed at some remote spot on the face of the globe. Who 
will affirm that Hume or Rapin, were incompetent to 
produce an history, which, making some allowances 
for human prejudices, is worthy the confidence and 
credit of our countrymen? Yet neither the one nor 
the other was an eye-witness of more than an insig- 
nificant portion of his voluminous production. But if, 
by drawing from pure sources, a man is to be deemed 
competent to relate facts of which he was not an eye- 
witness: then, the writers of the Bible, in those partic- 
ular events of which confessedly they were not eye- 
witnesses, but which they affirm with confidence, are 
entitled to our credit. Moses, for instance, on these 
principles, is competent to the relation of every event 



356 

recorded in the book of Genesis; although it is admit- 
ted that they took place before his birth, and although 
he goes back to the beginning of all things. From 
Adam to Noah, from Noah to Abraham, from Abra- 
ham to Joseph, and from Joseph to Moses, but four 
persons are necessary to transmit events as they trans- 
pired; and these four persons were Methuselah, Shem, 
Isaac, and Amram, the grandfather of Moses. Those 
things of which the apostle Paul was not an eye-witness 
he most surely believed, because he lived with those 
who were the companions of our Lord through all his 
ministry, and were present during those very events 
which he received upon their testimony. There can 
be no question that he found them men of unshaken 
veracity. The disciple of Gamaliel was not likely to 
become the dupe oi the designing. He must have had 
something like evidence to lead him to relinquish the 
fair prospect of worldl}^ emolument for certain and in- 
evitable suffering: he must have felt something like 
conviction to destroy the prejudices which he openly 
avowed, and which were sufficiently powerful to make 
him sanction the murder of Stephen. ]n every instance 
in which the writers of the Old and the New Testament 
were not eye-witnesses of the events which they re- 
corded, it will be found, upon the closest scrutiny, that 
they derived their evidence from the most authentic 
sources. We shall prove 

IV. THAT TTIEYWERE MEN CF INTEGRITY, IMPARTIAL- 
ITY, AND CANDOR. 

That they were men of integrity we gather from 
the tacit concessions of their most inveterate enemies. 
A thousand accusations were alleged against thelh 



S57 

equally cruel, injurious, and unfounded. Every possi- 
ble elTort was made to terrify and to silence them; and 
scourgings, and imprisonments, and death itself, were 
added to menaces. They were charged with sedition^ 
whiietneir writings, their preaching, and their conduct, 
equally and powerfully enjoined, that their followers 
should 'submit to every ordinance of man, for the 
Lord's sake " They were unjustly accused of pollut- 
ing the temple. It was said that they despised the law, 
the punty of which they exemplified in their lives. But 
their integrity was never questioned, and their state- 
ment of facts was never denied. That which they af- 
firmed, they affirmed openly: they affirmed on the spot 
stained with the Savior's blood, and on which the facts 
w4\ich they asserted were transacted: they affirmed 
before a whole people, who were capable of detect- 
ing imposition and exposing falsehood, if there had 
been either the one or the other, and whose determin- 
ed enmity impelled them to seize every occasion 
against them: yet amid all this their integrity could 
not be disputed, and their veracity stood unimpeach- 
ed. Nay, on all these occasions they boldly dared the 
trial, they challenged their adversaries to disprove their 
words, they detled their malice, and openly, and con- 
stantly asserted — ''We are witnesses of these things!" 
Their impartiality appears in every page of their 
writings. Their own failings are recorded with sin- 
gular and unexampled fidelity. They offer no pallia- 
tion of their conduct— -they conceal nothing — they 
alter nothing — they plead nothing. They sacrifice 
private feelings to the cause of truth. And with the 
same impartiality with which they record their own 
shame, they relate the weakness of their friends and fel- 
low-disciples. We will not say, that no tear fell upon 



358 

the line which consigned to everlasting remembrance 
every humilitating circumstance, but that tear was not 
suffered to erase the narrative; we will not say, that 
their hand did not tremble as it wrote the sad history, 
but that hand firmly inscribed the truth, and gave its 
faithful evidence against the weakness of its master. 
Neither do they conceal a single circumstance of igno- 
miny attending either their Lord or themselves. They 
relate all the shame of his death, and the degradation 
to which their conscience compelled them to submit 
for his sake. 

Their candor is seen in this, that they never mag- 
nified the rage of their enemies: never represented their 
characters more deformed and sanguinary than they 
really were: never imputed to them motives which 
they did not avow: never reviled, never reproached 
them. When they wrote the life of their Lord, it was 
without eulogy: when they recorded his death, there 
is no attempt to inflame the mind of the reader: not a 
single remark is made throughout the whole narrative: 
if they wept (and surely they did weep) they wept in 
silence, and no complaint escaped from their pen. A 
plain, unvarnished tale, is told throughout, andis left to 
make its way, unassisted, to the heart and to the con- 
science. Where shall we find such historians? Even 
skepticism must admit their integrity, their impartiality, 
and their candor. We advance 

V. THAT THEY WERE WISE AND GOOD MEN. 

Who will call in question the understanding or the 
accomplishments of Moses? Under what circumstances 
of honor, has his name been transmitted through ages 
and generations, till, irradiated with all its pristine glo- 



359 

ry, it has reached even these latter days! To a mind far 
above the common standard — to talents the most il- 
lustrious, he added all the learning of the Egyptians. 
Born at the fountain-head of literature, he drank co- 
pious draughts of the salutary stream. Before him 
the celebrated lawgivers of antiquity, although much 
later than this renowned legislator, shrink away, as the 
stars which shine through the night, fade before the 
first tints of the morning, and hide their diminished 
heads when the sun uncovers his radiance. In like 
manner all the writers of the Old and New Testa- 
ments demand our respect as men of supereminent tal- 
ents, and of solid wisdom. No one can read those 
Psalms which are ascribed to the king of Israel, and 
imagine that David was a man of a common under- 
standing. The fragments which have descended to us 
from Solomon, abundantly confirm the decision of the 
scriptures in naming him the wisest of men. He must 
be strangely destitute of taste who can read unmoved, 
the majestic and sublime productions of Isaiah. We 
disdain to answer the bold, unfounded, ignorant asser- 
tions of the author of -^The Age of Reason," who says, 
that "a school-boy should be punished for producing a 
book so full of bombast and incongruity as the book 
called Isaiah." A man who can thus speak of a pro- 
duction so truly sublime, upon general, we might say 
universal consent, has forfeited all claim to criticism; 
and he must feel something like degradation who 
should sit dow^n to answer so palpable a misrepresent- 
ation. We pass over the words of Jesus Christ, for surely 
it will be admitted that "never man spake as this man." 
Luke rises before us as claiming to rank high in res- 
pectability. His writings will appear to any unpre- 
judiced mind impressed with the stamp of genius and 



360 

of literature. In support of this position is it necessa- 
ry to do more than appeal to the short and elegant 
preface to his Gospel, after which, having once for all 
introduced himself, he disappears, and the historian is 
lost in the narrative? '' Forasmuch as many have tak- 
en in hand to set forth in order a declaration of those 
things which are most surely believed among us, even 
as they delivered them unto us, which from the begin- 
ning were eye witnesses, and ministers of the word: It 
seemed good to me also, having had perfect under- 
staadmg of all things from the very firsl, to write unto 
thee, in order, most excellent Theophilus, that t' ou 
mightest know the certainty of those things wherein 
thou has been instructed" The apostle Paul is a 
name too great to be passed over in silence. His ^:e- 
fence before Agrippa is a master-piece of genuine elo- 
quence and feeling; and he who can deny it, aft r 
reading the sentence with which it closes, appears to 
us most unreasonably prejudiced, and irreclaimable by 
the force of evidence. ''Then Agrippa said unto Paul 
Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian. And 
Paul said, I would to God, that net only thou, but 
also all that hear me this day, were both almost, 
and altogether such as I am — except these bonds!" 
His writings from first to last discover an extraordi- 
nary mind, and a fund of intelligence, worthy a 
disciple who sat at the feet of Gamaliel. Those who 
were unlettered men, have no less a claim upon our 
respectful attention. Who does not perceive a blaze 
of genius and of talent bursting through all the obscu- 
rity of their birth, and counteracting the original nar- 
rowness of their education? They were all wise men; 
and their wisdom carried with it the most decisive ev- 
idence that it was from above: it was "first pure, then 



ipeaceable, gentle, easy "to be intreated, full of mercy 
and of good fruits, without partiality, and without 
hypocrisy," ' 

We have pronounced but a small part of their eulo- 
gium in saying that they were wise men; for talents 
are often found united to vice: but they were also em- 
inently GOOD men. They were men. We do not de- 
sign to hold them up to your view as perfect charac- 
ters: for such a representation would neither accord 
with truth, nor agree with their presentions: but they 
were as perfect as humanity in its most exalted state 
upon earth seems capable of being. The charges 
against the character of David have been heavy, but 
they have been as ably refuted.* The light which he 
enjoyed was small, compared with the meridian glory 
which illumines our walk through life. And he must 
have an hard heart, and a most unreasonable con- 
science, who can urge David's failings against him, 
with much severity, after the contrition which he felt 
and expressed. Considered in connexion with the 
other, and excellent parts of his character, these de- 
fects resemble the dark spots, which, to a philosophic 
and scrutinizing eye, appear on the sun's disk; but 
which to any unassisted organ of vision, are swallow- 
ed up in the blaze of his glory. In the writings and 
the lives of the apostles, what piety, what benevolence, 
what devotion, what love to God and to man, are vis- 
ible! What genuine zeal did they manifest! A zeal dis- 
tinguished from mere enthusiasm, both in its object, 
and in its tendency! No good man can read these 
writings, such is their holy fervor, and such their 
exalted piety, without being made both wiser and bet- 
ter! Do you not discern in them hearts weaned from 

• In Chandler's life of David. 

- 46 



362 

the present world, and fired with the glorious prospects 
of futurity? Do you not perceive in all things an in- 
tegrity which made them ardent in the support of their 
cause, and ready to suffer every extremity for it? Yet 
that integrity, and that ardor, mingled with humility, 
temperance, mildness, goodness, and truth? Do they 
not continually insist upon these things as the gen- 
uine effects, the necessary consequences, and the dis- 
tinguishing characteristics, of their religion? O let any 
unprejudiced person calmly sit down to read their 
lives, where all their weaknesses appear, and where 
none of their faults are extenuated, and he must con- 
clude that they were good men! 

We might, without departing much from our plan, 
draw up by w^ay of contrast the lives and actions 
of the principal adversaries of Revelation, and oppose 
them to those of its first assertors. We think that the 
confessions of Rousseau would look but ill when plac- 
ed by the penitential tears of Peter, or the contrite 
sighs of David. The licentious life, and the gloomy 
death of Voltaire, would be a striking contrast to the 
labors, the patience, the perils, and above all, the tri- 
umphant expiring moments of Paul. We shall not, 
however, pursue this subject. These lives will be con- 
trasted another day. But we will add — that before the 
patrons of infidelity speak so bitterly of the failings of 
David, they should place by his life, the conduct of its 
most strenuous, and most distinguished advocates; and 
the comparison would reflect but little honor, and little 
credit, upon themselves. The writers of the Bible 
were wise and good men. We believe 



363 

VI. THAT THEY HAD THE BEST MOTIVES IN ALUTHAT 
THEY DID OR WROTE. 

We can only judge of motives from the honest pro- 
fessions which men make, and the integrity of con- 
duct which confirms and establishes these professions. 
And when we see them acting disinterestedly, and en- 
countering calamity under the profession of kindness 
to others: when we are persuaded that in no one in- 
stance they seek to serve themselves: but that, on the 
contrary, the plan which they follow must terminate 
in their temporal rain — wa must give them credit for 
their professions, and may safely conclude that their 
motives are pure. Now it is easy to prove, that this 
was the case with the first adliereats of reveLition, and 
the first preachers of the Gospel. Men are accustom- 
ed usually to act either from motives of benevolence, 
or from motives of interest. The prophets and apos- 
tles wrote and acted not from the latter, while there is 
a fulness of evidence that they were influenced by the 
former. Under interested motives we may include the 
love and hope of fame, of wealth, of applause, of what- 
ever may tend to render the man more noted, and 
more respectable. By benevolent 'motives we under- 
stand disinterested motives: comorisino: love to God 

' JO 

and to man, apart from every selfish impulse; and 
such motives as will lead the man cheerfully to relin- 
quish his own comforts for the benefit of society at 
large, or for conscience-sake. Now we will venture 
to make our appeal to infidelity itself, and to ask, 
whether the writers of the Bible have not a fair and 
honorable claim to benevolent motives? What inter- 
est had Moses in relinquishing the crown of Egypt, to 
head the insulted, outcast, enslaved Israelites, and to 
lead them through a perilous journey to the possession 



S64 

of a remote country, over the borders of which he 
himself never passed, and which he never saw, but at 
a distance? Had ambition or fame been his object, 
he had only to wait the death of Pharaoh, when, re- 
commended as he was by talents, the choice of Egypt 
had probably fallen upon him, and with its armies at 
his command, with its forces under his control, and 
with its resources for his resort, according to all human 
appearance, he might have effected his purpose with 
greater ease, and certainly would have enjoyed more 
temporal splendor. What interest had Isaiah, or any 
of the prophets, in pronouncing, and recording, denun- 
ciations which provoked their countrymen, and which 
superinduced not only immediate hardships and bitter 
imprisonments, but eventually terminated in their 
martyrdom? What interest had Luke to serve in 
overlooking a liberal and respectable professionas a 
physician, to link his life and his fcirtunes with those 
of an houseless Nazarene, and a few outcast Galileans, 
his wandering disciples? What interest had Paul to 
serve, in descending from the sphere of applause and 
of honor in which he moved as a Pharisee, to encoun- 
ter the danger, the disgrace, and the death annexed to 
a profession of Christianity? What motives of inter- 
est could lead the first propagators of the christian re- 
ligion to prc^oke the fury of an enraged populace, to 
draw down upon themselves the wrath of the rulers, 
to oppose the prejudices not merely of their country- 
men, but of the whole heathen world, to cndui'e the 
loss of all things, and to suffer death itself, in defence 
of the doctrines which they promulgated, the precepts 
which they taught, or the facts which they related? 
Deluded men, infidelity may think, and call them: but 
hiterested men, no one, with truth, or even the scm- 



365 

blance of truth, can aver that they were! Let it not 
be said that they expected applause, and were not ac- 
quainted with the sad consequences that would result 
from the line of conduct which they pursued. They 
were neither fools nor mad; and common sense was 
sufficient to convince them of their danger. If they 
had not been originally suspicious of it, their Master 
plainly predicted it; and they had before their eyes, 
the fearful evidence of what they were to expect, in his 
excruciating and ignominious death. They did not 
surely expect better treatment than their Lord: and no 
man could, with such an example before him, teach 
Christianity from interested motives. 

In justice to them, therefore, we ought to conclude,^ 
that they had the best of motives in all that they did 
and wrote. As this may be gathered from their suf- 
ferings, so also may it be collected from all that they 
taught. Did they ever say any thing with a view to 
entice men, or to purchase the favor of the great and 
the noble? Did they flatter them by giving license to 
the sins to which they were prone, or by permitting 
the indulgence of their tempers and lusts? Did they 
dazzl-e them with the promise of ease, comfort, splen- 
dor, fame, or emolument? Did they not oppose their 
prejudices, their principles, their vices, and their pas- 
sions? Did they not delineate Christianity in faithful 
colors, and paint all the ignominy and danger involved 
in a profession of it? Surely this was not the way to 
obtain human applause, or to serve interested motives! 
But what did they say of themselves? Let us hear 
the apostle Paul explain his own motives to the elders 
of the Ephesian church, in the solemn moment of 
eternal separation from them. "Ye know, from the 
first day that I came into Asia, after what manner I 



366 

have been with you at all seasons, serving the Lord 
v^ith all humility of mind, and with mapy tears and 
temptations which befel me by the iying in wait of the 
Jews; and how I kept back nothing that was profita- 
ble unto you, but have shewed you, and have taught 
you publicly, and from house to house, testifying both 
to the Jews, and also to the Greeks, repentance toward 
God and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ. And now, 
behold 1 go bound in the spirit unto Jerusalem, not know- 
ing the things which shall befal me there: Save that the 
Holy Ghost witnesseth in every city, saying, that bonds 
and imprisonments abide me. But none of these things 
move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself, so 
that I might finish my course with joy, and the min- 
istry which 1 have received of the Lord Jesus, to 
testify the gospel of the grace of God"— Therefore 
watch, and remember that by the space of three years, 
I ceased not to warn every one night and day with 
tears — ^'I have coveted no man's silver, or gold, or 
apparel. Yea, ye yourselves know, that these hands 
have ministered to my necessities, and to them that 
were with me. I have shewed you all things, how 
that so laboring ye ought to support the weak; and to 
remember the words of our Lord Jesus, how he said. 
It is more blessed to give than to receive." — Is this the 
language of an interested man? and above all of an 
interested man at such a moment? We will not mul- 
tiply passages in which sir'nilar protestations are used 
relative to their own conduct; and you are bound to 
believe them, because neither their lives nor their doc- 
triiies were those of persons who are actuated by in- 
terested motives. Otherwise they would soon have 
relinquished so hopeless a scheme. At the very com- 



367 

mencement of their labors one was stoned,* another 
beheadecl,t the greater part of theni scattered over 
etrange cities,+ and their cause and their sect every 
where spoken against. || You see them, nevertheless, 
steadfast, ininioveabl^, abounding in the work of the 
Lord, preaching Jesus with all diligence, knowing that 
their labor was not in vain in the Lord. Surely, we 
must admit, that they were actuated by the best of 
motives, in all that they did and wrote. Observe, 

VII. THAT THEY THEMSELVES BELIEVED, AND WERE 
GUISED BY THE TRUTHS WHICH THEY TAUGHT. 

This proposition stands allied to the preceding one, 
and the same train of reasoning will fairly establish 
it. They suffered death for the cause which they at- 
tempted to promulgate, and this was a decisive evi- 
dence that they believed it. It is readily granted that 
martyrdom is no evidence of the goodness of a cause 
or of the truth of the religion, which the man believes, 
and for which he dies. Many have suffered in a bad 
cause; and many have died for a false religion. The 
enthusiasm of a Roman more than' once led him to 
sacrifice himself for his country; and superstition has 
also boasted her martyrs — still boasts them on the 
plains of Indostan, and among untutored savages. 
Martyrdom, however, we may fairly assert is a proof 
of sincerity in the person who suffers; and this is all 
that we wish to prove in the present instance. We 
urge the sufferings and the death of the apostles upon 
you, not as an evidence of the truth of their religion 
(it is founded on stronger arguments than these,) but 

•Acts vii, 59. , fActsx'ii, 2. 

^Acts viii, 1—4: xi, 19. j| Acts xxviii, 22- 



368 

as a decisive proof of their sincerity, and as an invin- 
cible demonstration that they really believed what 
they taught. You may add to this the simplicity of 
their manners, of their narratives, of their preaching, 
and of their lives, strongly presumptive, to say the leasts 
of their unaffected sincerity. ' Nor will any man be 
able to investigate their characters and deportment, 
without acquitting them of all design to deceive. The 
same arguments will hold good in favor of the writers 
of the Old Testament. The prophets suffered death 
for their predictions, and those who did not, manifest- 
ed, by their lives, their belief of the truths which they 
taught. 

They not only believed, but were guided, by these 
things. Those only can enter into the argument 
by which we establish this assertion, who are accus- 
tomed to read the Bible; and indeed he who opposes 
Revelation, ought, in reason and in justice, to be as 
well acquainted with the sacred writings, as the man 
who professedly maintains it. Upon a comparison 
between the lives of the apostles and prophets, and 
their writings, we are persuaded it will be found, that 
the one is an exact transcript of the other. The 
benevolence and charity which they recommend- 
ed to others, they felt themselves. The love to Jesus 
Christ which they taught, warmed their own bosoms. 
He was the object of their faith, of their hope, of their 
joy, of their worship. In him all their wishes and 
expectations centred; and for him,* they were willing 
to live or to die. They exemplified the christian pa- 
tience and meekness, which they recommended to 
their hearers, in their own resignation and uncom- 
plaining sufferings. They could make their appeal to 
their conversation and say, "Brethren, be ye follow- 



369 

crs of us, even as we are also of Christ." Upon eve- 
ry investigation of their lives and writings, it will be 
found that they themselves were guided by the truths 
which' they taught to others. One more proposition 
will conclude what we have to advance respecting the 
writers of the Bible; and indeed it may be considered 
as a concluding niference from all the foregoing series 
of reasoning. It is 

VIII. THAT IT APPEARS UPON THE WHOLE, THAT THEY 
NEITHER COULD BE DECEIVED, NOR WOULD DE- 
CEIVE, IN ALL THAT THEY WROTE AND ASSERTED, 

That they could not be deceived, is evident from 
the nature of the case. We have said that they were 
for the most part eye-witnesses of what they recorded; 
this was eminently the fact in respect of the apos- 
tles. They conversed with Jesus Christ—- they saw all 
the miracles, that he wrought — they were presentlwhen 
he expired on the cross. When he rose from the 
dead, he appeared to them, and to "above five hun- 
dred brethren at once." He ascended to heaven in 
their presence. He afterwards appeared to Paul in 
the way to Damascus, and to John in the Isle of 

Patmos We have proved the same respecting the 

writers of the Old Testament, and particularly Moses. 
We have shewn, that what they did not see, they de- 
rived from the most certain evidences, and drew from 
the purest sources. Now such was the nature of the 
circumstances which they related, and the nature of 
the evidences which they possessed, that they could 
not be deceived. This we think a fair inference from 
the general train of our reasoning. 

And it is equally evident from their characters, that 
they would not deceive. To suppose them capable of 
47 



370 

this, is to lay them under the blackest of all imputa- 
tions, and to discover hardened guilt, of which human 
nature, depraved as it is, appears hardly capable. 
We have proved that they themselves could not be 
mistaken: then, they must, if they deceived at all, 
have voluntarily become "false witnesses of God," and 
have forged falsehoods from first to last. Their lives 
were, on these principles, one continued scene of per- 
jury, hypocrisy, and blasphemy. Pretending that God 
sanctioned their preaching, and sent them for this pur- 
pose, while in their hearts they knew it to be false, 
was impiety beyond almost the power of conception! 
In every instance they would be found to be liars; 
and they must, for no possible advantage, but in 
face of every danger, have deceived their fellow men 
solemnly and deliberately, day after day, through all 
their lives. They must have confederated to do this; 
and have stricken hands upon an engagement more 
terrible than death, and blacker than the designs of 
hell itself ever unfolded. This impious conduct would 
have been cruel to the laet degree. They were triflirg 
with the dearest and most important interests of man- 
Idnd — worse than trifling,they were consigning them in 
cold blood to infamy, to torment, and to ruin. They 
were leading them to rely for peace and salvation upon 
a man whom they knew to be an impostor, and who 
had suffered publicly as a criminal. They were bring- 
ing all the calamities inseparable from their religion, 
knowing it to be false, upon the people whom they 
deceived. They exposed the lives of the innocent, in 
leading them to patronize a guilty fraud (by persuad- 
ing them that it was true) which the rulers did not 
sanction; and their blood, on this supposition, with 
the tears of their orphans, of their widows, of their 



371 

bereaved families, must have mingled with the perjury 
and the blasphemy of their deceivers, in calling down 
the vengeance of heaven against a combination so hor- 
rible. They would, in a word, have been a society 
of the most infamous, cruel, abandoned wretches, 
that ever lived on the face of the globe: if, as they 
could not be deceived, they were capable of deceiving 
on a subject so important! And the men who confed- 
erated with them in forming the other parts of the 
scripture, must have entered into a plot to destroy 
thousands of lives here, to send the most dreadful ca- 
lamities on the earth, and to ruin the interests of men 
for ever! 

Now calmly examine the writings, the character, 
the deportment of the writers of the Old Testament and 
of the apostles of Jesus Christ, and say whether they 
appear to you to be the men capable of such decep- 
tion, or likely to form a plot so horrible? What could 
induce them to do it? What interest had they to serve 
by it? It is not possible! But as they could not be de- 
ceived, so every thing conspires to prove that they 
would not deceive. 

The fact is simply this. Their original talents were 
not considerable: their education was contracted: their 
sphere of life of the lowest order: their fears and un- 
belief abundant: their numbers small; and their minds 
bowed in the first instance by the prejudices of their 
country, all which prejudices were against a suffering 
Messiah. When they consented to share his igno- 
miny, it was from a conviction resulting from the pu- 
rity of his life, the force of truth in his teaching, the 
integrity of his character, and not from any resem- 
blance which they traced between his situation and 
their preconceived opinions. Every day developed 



372 

something respecting him which disappointed their ex- 
pectations, excited their astonishment, offended their 
pride, and opposed their views. Their minds were 
slowly enlightened, and they had not at the moment 
of his resurrection very clear views, either of »he 
prophecies respecting him, or of his testimony respect- 
ing himself. Let these ciicumstances be calmly con- 
sidered, let the amount of them be deliberately weigh- 
ed, and it will be evident to every reflecting mind, that 
it would be a miracle of the first order, if twelve, or 
rather eleven (for one of them betrayed the Lord) 
such men, should have attempted to palm, as a fact, 
an invention upon the very people among whom it 
was said to have taken place: that they should have 
had the genius to project such a design: and above all, 
that they should have been successful in disseminating 
their fabrication, and in establishing it upon a baeis 
which eighteen centuries have not been able to under- 
mine! Such a supposition is too palpably absurd to 
bear reasoning upon. If it be objected that their sub- 
sequent deportment manifests genius, firmness, un- 
bounded intellect, and astonishing energy of mind, a^ 
question arises, what was the cause of this change of 
character? We answer that this fact is in itself an ev- 
idence of the truth of their mission, inasmuch as it re- 
sulted from the sufferings and the resurrection of the 
Savior: it took place at a moment when there were 
thousands of witnesses present — "Parthians and Medes, 
and Elamites, and the dwellers in Mesopotamia and 
in Judea, and Cappadocia,in Pontus and Asia. Phry- 
gia, and Pamphylia, in Egypt and in the parts of Libya 
about Cyrene, and strangers of Rome, Jews and Pros- 
elytes, Cretes and Arabians:" it v/as evinced by the 
gift of tongues, so that the multitude wondered to hear 



373 

themselves addresed every man in his own language, 
while many of them knew that these very persons 
were before ignorant and unlettered; and it w^as ac- 
companied by miraculous powers, which their adver- 
saries could neither gainsay nor resist, and which were 
in force nearly a century. 

The appeals which they made were not the lan- 
guage of imposition Neither in their preaching, nor 
in their writings, did they ever lose sight of the facts 
asserted in the gospels, and especially of the death of 
their Master, in all its circumstances, and all its conse- 
quences. They did not cease to press it upon the 
memory, the feelings, the hearts, and the consciences 
of those who attended their ministry, the major part 
of whom were, in most instances, the murderers of the 
Lord of life and glory. They laid this sin to their charge, 
with undaunted courage, with invincible perseverance, 
with unshaken fidelity, when they said — "Ye denied 
the Holy One, and the Just, and desired a murderer 
to be granted unto you, and killed the Prince of Life, 
whom God hath raised from the dead: whereof we 
are witnesses." We have seen these faithful appeals 
confirmed in their sufferings, this bold and generous 
testimony written with their blood, this strong and re- 
sistless evidence sealed by their death! 

On these points we have the concessions of enemies. 
These things were not done in a corner. Others were 
also eye-witnesses of this event. The adversaries of 
the primitive Christians cast in their teeth the poverty 
of their Master's life, and the ignominy of his death. 
By these means, while they designed to affix indelible 
disgrace to the cause of Christianity, they decidedly 
proved that the facts recorded in the gospels respecting 
Jesus of Nazareth v/ere strictly and indisputably tru^ 



374 

In their public records, in their judicial statements, in 
their epistolary correspondence, the sufferings of the 
apostles and first disciples of our Lord were avouched, 
and their firmness branded with the name of madness. 
It was a subject of surprise and amazement to the heath- 
en world that men would submit to the most horrible 
tortures, the cruelty of human ingenuity could invent, 
rather than deny a poor, outcast, obscure Jew, who 
suffered, at the instigation of his countrymen, the 
death of a murderer! Ah, they knew not Jesus of Naz- 
areth! knew not the secret and resistless bond which 
held his disciples to him! knew not the sweetness of 
his love! But in the mean time, they have left to ev- 
ery succeeding generation a decided testimony that 
these things were so.* 

We detain you only to offer two concluding re- 
marks respecting the best mode of reading the Bible 
to advantage. The first shall regard the allowan- 
ces which should be made in consulting this sacred 
volume Whoever has paid any, the least, attention 
to it, must recollect that there are allusions to customs 
which exist no longer; and that its sublime and poetic 
parts are filled with figures of speech not altogether 
iamiliar to us. We are surrounded by imagery, and 
reading a language perfectly new — more bold and 
striking than these colder climes and tongues usually 
exhibit. When you take up the scriptures make 
these several allowances. Remember that you are 
reading the record of ages which have rolled away, 
and of nations, which have either long since perished, 
or which exist no longer in the same form. You 
should allow for the swelling metaphoric style of the 

* See the note of this Lecture, at the end of volume^ 



375 

East. Their mode of expression is always bold and 
magnificent beyond the imagination of an European; 
and the face of their country is also widely different. 
You must remember the customs then prevalent: these 
change perpetually with the lapse qf time; and the 
manners of antiquity were altogether distinct from 
those sanctioned by the fashion of the present day. 
Consider the countries in which they lived. Every 
country has a mode of operation, and habits^ peculiar 
to itself. Recollect the persons to whom they wrote; 
persons who were conversant with the metaphors em- 
ployed, and with the facts recorded; persons who were 
contemporary with them, and who had the advantage 
of making appeals to things and to evidences which 
exist no longer. And while you call these things to 
your memory, do not forget the changes which have 
taken place in all these particulars. 

Our second remark shall relate to the spirit in whicli 
the Bible should be read. Consult it divested so far 
as possible of prejudice, and with a sincere desire both 
to attain improvement, and to search out the truth. 
The investigation which we recommend, lies equally 
between that inactivity which slumbers for ever over 
things acknowledged, and that impetuous temerity 
which relying upon its own powers disdains assistance, 
attempts a flight beyond the precincts of lawful siibjects^ 
and with licentious boldness pries into those "secret 
things which belong to God." Some float for ever 
on the surface of admitted truths, fearful to rise above 
the level over which they have hovered from the first 
moment of consciousness. These resemble those birds 
which feed upon the insects dancing on the water^ 
who never rise into the air, but always skim the sur- 
face of the lake, on the borders of which they re- 



376 

ceived life. Others, on bold, adventurous wing, rise 
into the trackless regions of mystery, till they sink 
from the pride of their elevation, perplexed and ex- 
hausted. These, by aiming at too much lose every 
thing. Because they have attempted unsuccessfully 
to investigate that, which God has been pleased to put 
out of the reach of human comprehension, they will 
not believe any thing — they embrace a system of uni- 
versal skepticism. So Noah's dove beheld on every 
side a boundless expansion of waters; and whether 
she rose or sunk was equally bewildered, and found 
no rest for the sole of her foot. Tiiere is one point of 
difference, and that is, that she returned to the ark; 
but those whom we have described, too often are 
foun 1 to turn despisers, who wonder and perish. But 
the Christian is bold in investigating all that God ha3 
submitted to his researches, attempts every thing lean- 
ing on Almighty energy, and relies with implicit con- 
fidence upon the written word. So the eagle rises 
boldly into the air. keeping the sun in view, and builds 
her nest upon a rock. 

We Would not have you, with the inactive and su- 
pine, always coast the shore: nor with the infidel ven- 
ture into the boundless ocean without pilot, or com- 
pass, or ballast, or anchor: exposed equally to the 
quicksands, to the rocks, to the whirlpool, and to the 
tempest: but we are desirous that, like the Christian, 
you should boldly face, and patiently endure the storm, 
with the Bible as your compass, Hope as you anchor, 
God as your pilot, and Heaven as your country. 



LECTURE XIV. 

CONCLUDING LECTURE. 

THE UNSEARCHABLE GOD: OR, AN ATTEMPT TO 
PROVE AN ANALOGY BETWEEN THE RELIGION 
OFNATUREAND THAT OF THE BIBLE, BY SHEW- 
ING THAT THE SAME OBSCURITY WHICH 
OVERSHADOWS REVELATION, EQUALLY OVER- 
SPREADS NATURE AND PROVIDENCE. 

JOB XXXVI 14. 
Lo, these are parts of his ways, bid how little a por^ 
tion is heard of him? but the thunder of his power, 
who can understand? 

MAN is a needy, dependent creature, from his birth to 
his death. His first cry is the voice of want and help- 
lessness; his last tear flows from the same source; and 
in no one intermediate period of his life, can he be pro- 
nounced independent. His eye, the moment it is 
opened, is turned upon another for assistance. His 
limbs must be sheltered from the cold: his nutriment 
provided, and his wants supplied by the care and ex- 
ertions of others: or he would perish in the hour of his 
birth. A few months expand his limbs; and then a 
new train of wants succeeds. He must be watched 
with incessant vigilance, and guarded with unceasing 
care and anxiety, against a thousand diseases, which 
wait to precipitate him to a premature grave. The 
quivering flame of an existence scarcely communicat- 
ed, is exposed to sudden and furious blasts, and it re- 
quires all a parent's skill to interpose a screen which 
48 



378 

may prevent its extinction; and, alas! after all, such in- 
terposition as human skill and tenderness cart sup- 
ply, are often ineffectual, and the prevailing blast ex- 
tinguishes the sickly fire. 

The child begins to think, and a new field of exer- 
tion is opened to the mother. He needs direction, and 
is dependent upon her wisdom and affection for his 
earliest sources of information. She watches and fa- 
cilitates the dawn of reason. She teaches her child 
for what end he came into the world; and in language 
adapted to his capacity, exhibits to the inquiring mind, 
and pours into the listening ear, his high and immortal 
destination. Oh, then with what anxiety she watch- 
es the speaking countenance! With what skill she di- 
rects the passions! With what assiduity she strives to 
irradicate, or at least to bring into subjection his visi- 
ble propensity to evil and the impulses of a depraved 
nature! Who among us cannot look back to this ear- 
ly period, and remember a mother's short, impressive 
conversation — her intreaties — her caresses — her res- 
trictions — and her tears? 

The boy advances in wisdom and in stature, and in 
strength: but he is still dependent. And now he must 
pass into other hands. There are many things which 
it is necessary for him to know, and to learn, in order 
to his passage through life with respectability, which it 
is not a mother's province to teach him. Besides, it is 
needful that he should sojourn for a season with stran- 
gers, to prepare him for the approach of that time, 
when he must quit the paternal roof for ever, and force 
his way through the wide world! 

Grown up at length to manhood, he is still depend- 
ent. He lives by conferring and receiving mutual offices 
of kindness It is not good for him to be alone. He 
links his fortunes and his interests, his hopes and his 



379 

fears, his joys and his sorrows, with those of another. 
His duties and his,responsibilities, multiply upon him. 
The circle is widened. He finds others dependent up- 
on him, while he is not himself independent. And all 
his difficulties and sufferings are lightened by being 
divided. 

Behold him stretched upon the bed of death, hav- 
ing reached the extremity of this transient existence, 
still a poor, dependent, needy creature! To that heart 
he looks for sympathy: that bosom must support his 
languishing head: that hand must adjust the pillow, 
and administer the cordial, and wipe away the dew of 
death, and close the extinguished eye. Into the bog- 
om of his companion through life, or of his child, or of 
his friend^ he breathes the last sigh! 

Revelation meets man on the terms of his nature, 
addresses him, and suffers him to address God, as a 
needy dependent creature. It proves its divine origin 
by its adaptation to the wants and the wishes of hu- 
manity. It is directed to every man, as the son of Ad- 
am, and the child of sorrow, and the slave of igno- 
rance. ' But vain man will be wise: will not be in- 
structed: will believe nothing which he cannot com- 
prehend; and rejecting the truth, will not come to the 
light, lest his deeds should be reproved. 

When we speak of magnitude and diminutiveness, of 
beauty and homeliness, of wisdom and folly, it is by 
comparison; and each of these terms are exchanged, 
the former for the latter, when the objects to which 
they were applied, are placed by the side of something 
more magnificent, more lovely, more sapient. The 
productions of human skill are grand; and we pro- 
nounce the ''solemn temple" magnificent, when con- 
trasted with surrounding and inferior buildings: but 
when set in comparison wath the temple of the sky, it 



^80 

is magnificent no longer — it shrinks into nothing. I 
see a picture of the evening: I admire the painters art 
in so judiciously blending his light and his shade; a soft 
and sober tint overspreads the v^diole piece, and I pro- 
nounce it beautiful; — but when I compare it with the 
sunset of nature, when I see the west inflamed with ethe- 
real fire, blushing with ten thousand vivid and various 
splendors, while the distant mist slowly creeps along 
the line of the horizon, and forms a contrast to the bril- 
liancy above it the effort of art is swallowed up in the 
sublimity of nature — and it is beautiful no longer. I 
admire the genius and the understanding of the philo- 
sopher; I reverence the superior intelligence of a Solo- 
mon; I look up humbled to a Newton, exploring the 
immensity of yonder firmanent, reducing the apparent 
confusion of its orbs to order, laying the planetary sys- 
tem under laws, tracing their orbits, and scrutinizing 
their nature — and I pronouce these, wise men: but I 
raise my eyes — and behold an higher order of crea- 
tures around the throne of God, before whom even 
Newton is a child; and presuming into ^'the heaven of 
heavens," I am lost in him, who charges even these su- 
perior beings with folly." 

The powers of tlie human mind are said to be large 
and capacious: they are so when compared with those 
of every other terrestrial being in the creation of God. 
Man walks abroad, the monarch of this world. Of all 
the diversified tribes which the hand of Deity formed, 
into man alone was "breathed the breath of life, and 
he became a living soul." The animal soon reaches 
his narrow standard, and never passes it. The pow- 
ers of man are in a constant state of progression; and 
probably in the world of spirits they will be found to . 
be illimitable. But whatever they may be in theii- na- 
ture, they are at present contracted in their operation^ 



38i 

To what do they amount when called into action? To 
speak a few languages: to decypher a few more in a 
various character: to ascertain here and there a cause- 
by tracing it upwards from its effects: to number sev- 
en planets revolving round the sun: to send imagina- 
tion into infinite space in search of other systems, till 
she is bewildered and tired in her progress: to float on 
the bosom of the air suspended from a globe of silk; 
or to sail over the surface of the ocean in a vessel of 
his own construction: to ascend the hoary summit of the 
loftiest mountain, or to penetrate a fathom or two the 
surface of the earth: these are the boundaries of hu- 
man effort. And in searching out the little he is capa- 
ble of learning, what difficulties he must meet! what 
embarrassments he must surmount! what labors he 
must undergo! what time he must expend! And after 
all, how little has he gained! how much remains un- 
explored! how uncertain, and probably how errone- 
ous, are hisbest grounded conclusions! And if weelevate 
our thoughts to those spirits, whose powers in our lim- 
ited apprehension are unbounded, we shall find upon 
inquiry that they also are limited creatures. There 
are subjects present to the divine mind which the an- 
gels do not know: mysteries, which the capacity, of 
Gabriel cannot fathom, and^which the intelligence of a 
seraph cannot unravel. How much less "man who 
is a worm, and the son of man who is but a worm?" 
The subject for discussion this night, is thus pro- 
posed — The unsearchable God: or, an Attempt 
TO PROVE an Analogy between the religion of 
nature and that of the Bible, by shewing that 
the same Obscurity which avERSHADOw^s Reve- 
lation, EQUAI.T>Y OV'ERSPREADS NaTXTRE AND PrOV- 

idence. 



382 

Of this unsearchable Being, this infinite Mind, Job 
Writes; and we are now to contemplate rather what 
we do nof know of him, than that which we are able 
to comprehend: since upon the closest investigation of 
the whole which he has submitted to our researches, 
we are compelled to conclude, "Lo, these are parts of 
his ways, and how little a portion is heard of him? 
but the thunder of his power who can understand?" 
We shall apply these words, in order to the develope- 
ment of our subject, 

I. To THE Works of Creation. 

II. To THE Mysteries of Providence, 

III. To THE Invisible Worlds: 

IV. To THE Word of Revelation; — and this 
arrangement is justified by the whole connexion of 
the text. We apply them, 

I. to the works of creation. 

"He stretcheth out the north over the empty place 
and hangeth the earth upon nothing." 

To the first gaze of man newly-created, the temple 
of the sky presented itself, filled with glorious objects, 
which furnished food for his curiosity, and employ- 
ment for the new-born powers of his mind. He saw 
the whole expansion covered with stars twinkling 
through the blue ether. He beheld the sun rise in the 
east, and disappear behind the western hills. The 
moon occupied his vacated seat in the heavens, and 
every night changed her hour of rising. As yet the 
laws by which these "greater lights" are governed were 
unknown; and whether the lesser sparks were mere 
ornaments of the curtain stretched out on every side, 
or worlds and suns diminished by distance, the man 
doubted: for in the infancy of time, philosophy had 



383 

not kindled her torch, and every thing was to be 
learned. He regarded it, however, as a scene of mag- 
nificence; and considered the whole as the work of 
him, "parts of whose ways" only, are after all submit- 
ted to our investigation. 

As years rolled on, a multitude of researches into 
nature were instituted. Art lent her auxiliary powers: 
a few instruments were invented to aid the eye, or to 
help the imagination; and a regular inquiry into the 
secret laws of this great universe, was formed and 
prosecuted. Time gradually matured the crude and 
undigested hypotheses of the enlightened mind. Each 
man took his department. One applied the telescope 
to the organ of vision, and ascertained the nature, and 
read the laws, of yonder shining orbs. Another bent 
his attention to the productions of the globe, and to 
the animals that move upon its surface. A third in- 
vestigated the properties of water and of air, and the 
several uses to which they are applicable. A fourth 
studied the structure of the human frame, and applied 
his knowledge to the purpose of relieving the springs 
of life. These all were still acquainted only with ''parts 
of his ways." 

When the astronomer has spent his whole life in 
reading the splendid volume which the night unfurls, 
what has he at length learned? He has proved that 
the globe on which we live is spherical: that it turns 
upon its axis once in twenty-four hours, and revolves 
round the sun in twelve months: that yonder glorious 
orb, the centre of our system, is a body of fire:* that 
the planets are probably worlds like our own: that the 
moon appears to have seas and continents, islands and 

• See the note at the end of the volume. 



384 

mountains: thus far can he go, but no further! He 
launches into infinite space, which Job here calls "the 
empty place,'' and is lost! Those lights that sparkle 
at distances so immense, may, or may not, be suns, 
and the centres of other systems. All is uncertainty 
and perplexity; and the comet that shoots across the 
system of which our own world is a part, wheels 
through its orbits, and round the sun, flies off, and de- 
rides the efforts of man, to describe its sphere, or to 
foretel its return! "Lo, these are farts of his ways!" 

Human ingenuity and human courage have been 
exhausted io reiterated attempts to approach the poles: 
but life cannot be sustained among their horrors. The 
spark of existence is quenched amid snows that never 
melt: ices, that resist the impression of the sun's dis- 
tant rays: a winter that never ceases to rage: a cold 
that freezes the vitals! And if the man were able to 
reach these extremities of the globe, what could he 
learn more than Job ascertained thousands of years 
back: that *'he stretcheth out the north over the empty 
place, and hangeth the earth upon nothing:" that hav- 
ing suspended the globe, and drawn its orbit, it hangs 
self-sustained, as human skill could not balance a 
feather. Philosophy needs poles to explain its revolu- 
tions; and imagination must be assisted by supposing 
a line drawn through the globe and extended obliquely 
to the north star: these things the contraction of our 
powers require science to supply, that w^e may com- 
prehend more easily the laws of nature: but he who 
made the world gave it not these encumbrances, and 
it is poised in empty space, without any support but 
his command. — *'Lo, these are parts of his ways." 

He who spends his life in scrutinizing the minutiae 
of nature is puzzled at every step of his investigation; 



385 

and in the open fields understands as little of the un- 
searchable God, as the astronomer who winders 
bewildered among the planets. A blade of grass, an 
ear of wheat, an acorn, plunges him into difficulties, 
from which neither reason nor philosophy can extri- 
cate him. He knows not how that diminutive and 
spiral leaf, upon wiiich he tramples, grows and veo^e- 
tates! Why must that grain of corn die, before it can 
spring up? . And how is it, that a particle in it no 
larger than an atom, the only particle that survives 
the corruption of the grain, will multiply, and increase 
and produce ''thirty, sixty, an hundred fold?" How 
inconceivable that an insignificant acorn should con- 
tain all the component principles of a stately oak, the 
pride of the forest! In fact, a particle of sand, and a 
drop of water, are replete with subjects of curiosity 
and of wonder. The air which we breathe, refuses to 
submit the whole of its properties to our researches. 
In vain it is attempted to be exhausted, compressed 
tortured — it is understood to be elastic, to rest with an 
incredible pressure upon the surface of the body equally 
on all parts, and we cannot press the matter further 
He who bestowed it alone can make the thin fluid 
which the lungs inhale to sustain life, the vehicle of 
death: and he cari heighten its rarification to a pitch 
too subtile for the organs adapted to its action, or load 
it with gross and fatal vapors, and thus constitute it 

the instrument of mortality in another shape. ^"Lo, 

these are parts of his ways." 

He who attends to the structure of the human frame, 
may, from little knowledge of its parts which he is 
able to obtain, trace the progress of disease, and allay 
the fermentation and fever of the blood, by medicine, 
or by diminishing the quantity of the heated fluid: he 
49 



S86 - 

may assist the efforts of nature, and counteract in 
some measure, by the skilful application of science, the 
power of disease: but he cannot restore a single fibre de- 
stroyed, nor protract the life a moment beyond its ap- 
pointed period; and, after all, he can know but the 
more obvious parts of this complicated machine, while 
its secret springs escape his most diligent researches. 
"Lo, these are parts of his ways, and how little a por- 
tion is heard of him?" As in the works of Crea- 
tion, so is the Deity equally unsearchable, 

n. IN THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 

*'He holdeth back the face of his throne, and spread- 
eth his cloud upon it." 

Most eminently in this respect "parts^^ only "of his 
ways" are submitted to our understanding; and he 
who objects to Revelation, because it involves in it 
mysteries which he cannot fathom, ought, to be con- 
sistent, on the same principles to deny the superinten- 
dence of Providence, to reject the religion of nature 
(so called) and to doubt his own existence, all of 
which include an equal and correspondent degree of 
obscurity and uncertainty. The history of the 
world presents scenery incessantly changing; and 
without being able to assign a reason for it, we see 
this nation, rising into distinction and that, falling into 
irretrievable desolation. One empire is swallowed up 
of another. The politics of this world present a dis- 
cordant chaos, where all sorts of contrarieties are 
blended together; and it is the voice of God alone that 
can hush the uproar, and silence the strife; the hand of 
God alone that can harmonize these contending prin- 
ciples, and reconcile these violent oppositions; and the 
wisdom of God alone that can command a beautiful 



387 

world to emerge from this dark, disordered, formless 
abyss. Here, we see a man signalizing himself upon 
this great th^-atre, led by an invisible hand, surmount- 
ing opposition, and performing seeming impossibilities. 

The strength of nations melts before him; and with 
resistless energy he overruns with his forces the might- 
iest kingdoms. He goes on to add dominion, to do- 
minion, till he has subjugated the world; and this for 
no apparent reason! Such was Alexander; and mod- 
ern history may be thought to present his counterpart! 
Again, we see a large empire dismembered — swallow* 
ed up in a night, or gradually mouldering by the revolt 
of this and the other province — all apparently the 
work of chance — all indisputably the operation of an 
infinite, and unsearchable Agent. So the extent of 
Alexander's conquests, was equalled only by their ra- 
pidity; and with correspondent velocity, after his death 
his empire hastened to ruin: till Rome trod in his foot- 
steps, and again held the world in chains. So Cyrus 
was conducted by an invisible hand to victory; and 
Babylon fell in a single night. 

By the aid of Revelation we obtain a little light on 
this obscure subject. We are led behind the scene, and 
^ '^parV^ of the whole is developed. One or two of 
the wheels of the machine are submitted to our exam- 
ination, that we may gather from our inspection of the 
construction of these, the harmony and consistency, the 
wisdom and stability, the power and immensity of the 
whole; and that we may be convinced that he who con- 
descends now to explain one or two enigmas, can, and 
will hereafter, in his own time and way, explain all. We 
see why Alexander was permitted to conquer-^that 
the gospel of Jesus might be facilitated in its progress 
biy the boundaries of empires being broken up, and a 



388 

free intercourse subsisting in all parts of the globe: 
and why x\ugustus decreed an enrolment — that Joseph 
and Mary might be called from their obscurity, and 
the Messiah born, according to the decision of prophe- 
cy, at Bethlehem. The tide of human affairs, how- 
ever agitated and impeded by counter-currents, swells 
in its progress, and amid all its windings sets irresista- 
bly towards the ocean of the divine purposes, in which 
it is ingulfed and lost. — ^^Lo, these are parts of his 
ways! but how little a portion is heard of him?'' 

If we withdraw our attention from the affairs of 
empires, and selecting a family, fix it upon an individ- 
ual, the same perplexity appears upon the surface of 
his trials; and the same measure of illumination is cast 
upon the darkness of his path, when God condescends 
to unravel a portion of his own desi2;ns. We will 
appeal to the experience of that patriarch, whose sin- 
gular providential trials have rendered him so often an 
object ot* selection to illustrate this assertion. Who, 
that saw the situation of Jacob, reduced to despair by 
the mysterious disappearance of his darling son, the 
detention of Simeon, and the demand for Benjamin to 
go into a strange country, a country in which his broth- 
er was imprisoned, would not have said, as he did, 
''All these things are against me?" We read these 
hallowed pages, and perceive that the loss of his first 
child w^as to preserve his own life, and that of all his 
family; and that the imprisonment of a second, and 
the demand for the third, were the means of the deve- 
lopement of the whole, and restored him to the arms 
of his long lamented Joseph! — ''Lo, these are parts of 
his ways!" How small is the proportion of providen- 
tial mystery which is explained! How large that which 
is yet left involved in darkness, and perplexed in end- 



389 

less intricacy; How often he passes by us and we per- 
ceive him not: he works on our right and on our left 
hand, and we cannot trace: we hear the sound of his 
footsteps, unable to behold him! '^He holdeth back 
the face of his throne, and spreadeth his cloud upon 
it." On the testimony of the scriptures a Christian 
will believe that ^'all things work together for good^to 
them that love God, to them that are the called ac- 
cording to his purpose:" but how they co-operate is 
known only to him who ^'sees the end from the begin- 
ning," and whose wonder-working hand educes good 
out of evil. We know but little; and that little, how 
imperfectly! ^Lo, tliese are parts of his ways! but 
how little a portion is heard of him?" Again we apply 
these words, 

III. TO THE INVISIBLE WORLDS. 

"Hell is naked before him, and destruction hath no 
covering." 

We all look forward with anxiety and suspense to that 
unknown state to which we hasten. When we rniss 
from the circle of our friendships, the companions of 
our way, we cast many a wishful glance acrpss the 
abyss at our own feet, and make many a fruitless at- 
tempt to penetrate the obscurity that hides its secrets 
from our inquiring eyes. There was a time when 
the conscious heart of man vibrated with the palpita- 
tions of fearful anticipation and suspense, as he de~ 
scended '-the valley of the shadow of death," for Rev- 
elation was not there to guide and to support his 
trembling and uncertain steps. Ah, then how bitter 
was the parting sigh! Then the strained eye-balls 
were turned towards the mouth of the vale where the 
last glimmerings of light lingered; and as the invisible 



390 

hand irresistibly urged the reluctant wretch forwards, 
horror and dismay suspended all his faculties; chill 
despair crept through all his vitals, and brooded heavy 
at his heart; and a darkness which might be felt, op- 
pressed and overwhelmed the departing spirit. Bless- 
ed be the hand that has rolled the cloud from the 
mouth of the grave, and for ever chased these accumu- 
lated horrors! ''Blessed be the God and Father of our 
Lord Jesus Christ, who according to his abundant 
mercy hath begotten us again to a lively hope, by the 
resurrection of Jesus from the dead, to an inheritance 
incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not 
away!'* Now as we appoach that aw^ful hour in 
which the strongest powers of nature fail, the visions 
of God burst upon the enraptured sight: the melody 
of heaven floats along the air, and thrills through the 
soul of the dying believer: angels w^ait to "minister to 
the heirs of salvation;" Jesus, the friend of sinners, is 
present to close the dim and fixed eyes: an energy 
more than mortal is vouchsafed; and death is swal- 
lowed up in victory! 

It is no longer a matter of inquiry and of uncertain- 
ty, of conjecture and of hope, that the soul is immor- 
tal: the die is cast, and the fact is indisputably proved. 
"Life and immortality are brought to light by the gos- 
pel." A thousand dying testimonies have proved the 
stability of revealed truth. He who emerged from 
the dark dominions of death, a^ the forerunner of his 
people, spoiled him of his sceptre, and bore away the 
keys of his prison in triumph to heaven. The throne 
of the king of terrors already trembles, and nods to 
its fall. "The hour is coming when all that are in 
their graves shall hear the voice of the Son of God, 
^nd shall come forth." His empire shall be depopu- 



301 

iated, his captives set free, his very being annihilated^ 
Rejoice, Oye heavens, for the King of Kings has van- 
quished the Power which clouded your beauties, and 
which will extinguish the radiance of your orbs! Re- 
joice, for the Savior shall reign till all enemies are sub- 
dued under his feet; and "the last enemy that shall be 
destroyed, is death!" Rejoice, for he will create you 
anew, and rekindle all your faded glories, with a lustre 
which shall never be impaired! Shout for joy, ye re- 
deemed, for the day of the restitution of all things 
draweth nigh! — Hear it, ye nations, and let the voice 
of triumph thunder through all your islands and all 
your continents! Hear it, ye angels, and strike your 
harps in sympathy with the sons of mortality, the 
fellow-heirs with you of the same kingdom; and aid 
their feeble voices, by adding the melody of your 
songs to their triumph over death! Hear it, ye spirits, 
of just men made perfect, and blend your joys with 
the gratitude of your brethren according to the flesh! 
Sound the trumpet of victory through the dreary 
chambers of the grave — the long-silent habitations of 
the dead; and while the unconscious dust lies sleeping 
in these low and mournful vaults, hail, in your invis- 
ible world, ye glorified saints, the dawn of that ap- 
proaching morning, when your ashes shall be: ran- 
somed from the tomb, and time and death shall ex- 
pire together! 

It is also decided that a two fold portion awaits the 
departed spirit, a world of endless joy, or of endless 
woe. A prison where the heart hardens as it suffers; 
and the vials of divine wrath cannot be exhausted: 
or a world of bliss, the habitation of God, of angels, 
of departed samts, of holiness, of perfection, of inex- 
tinguishable happiness. In the scriptures, the imagin- 



392 

ation and the reason are employed in contemplating 
regions of horror, in which the worm dieth not, and 
the fire is not quenched; but the man who rejected 
divine compassion is delivered over to remorse, and 
anguish, and darkness^ and despair, and unknown 
misery: or, these powers of the mind are overwhelmed 
in the vision of the palace of God, and the unshaken 
kingdom which he has prepared for the righteous; 
and as the armies of the redeemed pass before us, the 
voice from heaven proclaims — 'They shall hunger no 
more, neither thirst any more, neither shall the sun 
light on them, nor any heat. For the lamb which is 
in the midst of the throne, shall feed them, and shall 
lead them to living fountains of waters: and God shall 
wipe away all tears from their eyes." 

When you have explored these invisible w^orlds by 
the aid of revelation, much obscurity still hovers over 
them. Their existence is clearly ascertained, but few 
particulars respecting these unknown lands, have 
reached these remote regions. We have yet every 
thing to learn respecting their nature, the nature of 
their inhabitants, and the nature of the employments 
attached to them. "Lo, these are parts of his ways! 
but how little a portion is heard of him?" And if all 
the operations of nature, the mysteries of Providence, 
and the secrets of the invisible worlds, were developed, 
still these all are but "parts of his ways!'' We apply 
this language once more, 

IV. TO THE WORD OF REVELATION. 

Even in this volume "how little a portion is heard 
of him!'' 

Here, those truths which are of most importance to 
us as dying men, are plainly revealed. We feel forci- 



393 

bly our relation to God, "the Judge of all." We be- 
hold human nature emerging from the ruins of tha 
fall, and triumphing over the curse. We perceive the 
devastation introduced by the transgression of our first 
parent, repaired by the obedience and death of the 
Second Adam, who "is the Lord from heaven." We 
see Jesus "made a littie lower than the angels" for 
our sakes, afterwards '^crowned with glory and honor," 
as our surety and representative. He suffered "the 
just for the unjust to bring us to God." He was 
<*lifted up that he might draw all men unto him." 
And "through him we all have access by one Spirit 
to the Father." 

The Holy Spirit is represented as descending to ap- 
ply all the blessings arising from his death to the 
wounded conscience. The image of God is restored 
to the heart. The bosom becomes an habitation of 
the Most High. It is no longer a scene of anarchy, 
the seat of tumultuous passions; but the residence of 
peace, and joy, and hope, and holiness, as the pledge 
of still more refined and exalted felicity to come. 

Connected with these solemn truths are promises 
suited to every possible circumstance in human life, 
and adapted to all the difficulties which press upon the 
man in passing through this valley of tears. In this 
one book is found "w^hatsoever things are true, what- 
soever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, 
whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things arc 
lovely, whatsoever things are of good report:" in a 
word, whatsoever things are "profitable for doctrine, 
for reproof, for correction, and for instruction in 
righteousness." But when you have laid together all 
the discoveries of this volume, you must coofcss-r-^ 
"Lo, these are parts of his ways! but how liitlc 9. pof^'- 
tion is heard of him?" 
50. 



S94 

It is freely conceded to infidelity, that there are in 
this volume "many things hard to be understood;'' 
difficulties which cannot be surmounted, and myste- 
ries which cannot be explained. But who does not 
perceive, from the train of discussion pursued this 
evening, that in this very point consists its analogy to 
nature and to Providence? that it bears the character 
of the unsearchable God impressed upon it? that it 
forms a part, and only a part, of the same mysterious 
plan, and the same great operations, which aie carry- 
ing foi wards above us, around us, beneath us, wher- 
ever the hand of God is — and that is every where? 
Who does not trace in the Bible the same features of 
clearness and of obscurity — the same combination of 
light and of darkness— found in every thing else con- 
nected with the Deity; and to be expected in the com- 
munications made by an infinite mind, to a finite 
capacity? Who does not see that the same obscurity 
which overshadows revelation, equally overspreads 
nature and Providence? Who can deny, on these 
principles, the position which we wish to establish: 
that no conclusion can be drawn against the Bible on 
account of its mysteries; but rather, that they furnish 
an evidence that it is indeed a revelation from him, 
who is equally past finding out in all his ways? 

All these things are but the image of the invisible 
God: when you have passed through them all, you are 
only on the threshold of the temple of his works. He 
that wearies his eye in tracing the systems that are 
visible in the starry heavens, and his imagination in 
conceiving of myriads beyond these, leaves half the 
works of God unexplored, and an infinity of systems 
unconceived. He that searches into the mystery of 
Providence, and by the aid of revelation unravels a 



395 

portion of his operations, has only seen, like Moses, a 
part of his glory, but "the cloud" is yet spread over 
*'the face of his throne." He that explores the in- 
visible worlds by the light of revelation, only sweeps 
over their surface, but must die to learn their secrets. 
He that reads in this volume the nature of God, his 
relation to us, the way of reconciliation, and the plan 
of redemption, has learned only in part what God has 
done, and what he has laid up for them that fear him. 
The tale will be unfoldino; throuo;h all the revolvins, 
periods of eternity. Some mysteries will be incessant- 
ly explaining, some new discoveries of divine grace 
continually making — and we shall ever be learning 
what are "the heights and depths, the breadths and 
lengths, of the love of Christ, which passeth knowl- 
edge." For the present we leave the subject exhaust- 
ed precisely at tlie point where we began: ' Lo, these 
are parts of his ways! and how little a portion is 
heard of him?" 

"but the thunder of his power who can under- 
stand." 

If the radiance of these material orbs is so insup- 
portable, and the light of the noontide sun blinds the 
organs of vision: if the mysteries of providence are so 
inscrutable, and his superintendence of human affairs 
so irresistible: if the invisible worlds are so sublimely 
obscure, and he reigns unresisted over them: if the 
beams of his mercy shining through the revelation of 
divine love are so overwhelming; Oh! what must be 
the unquenchable fire of his indignation! "The thun- 
der of his power who can understand?" 

If when he descended in the cool of the day to 
judge our first parents, they shrunk with horror from 



396 

the face of offended Deity: if when he gave his laW^ 
the mountain burned with fire, and darkness and thun- 
der, and the sound of a trumpet, announced the pres- 
ent God, and shook the camp of Israel: if when he 
discovered only the skirts of his glory to Moses, he 
sheltered him in a rock, and covered him with his 
hand; if when he passed before Elijah, a great and 
strong wind rent the mountains, an earthquake rived 
the rocks, and a fire consumed the forest; if when in 
the veil of flesh his face eclipsed the splendor of the 
sun, and his raiment shone as the light; if when he ap- 
peared to his beloved disciple in the barren isle of Pat- 
mos, in the softest beams of his majesty, so terrible 
was the sight, that he fell at his feet as dead: Oh! what 
must be the power of his anger! and "the thunder of 
his power who can understand?" 

We have heard this thunderstorm in the summer: 
when clouds have been opposed to clouds, and min- 
gled their sulphur in one loud, impetuous explosion; 
while the mountains and the vallies have returned 
their roarings in broken echoes. But what is the 
thunderstorm of summer, to the ten thousand thun- 
ders which shall rend the earth, when the trump of 
God shall awaken the dead; and add to these twice 
ten thousand more, and they are as the rattling of a 
leaf to ''the thunder of his power!" 

Who then can stand against him? Pause and think, 
ye monarchs of this world, who resist his power! Who 
would have him for an enemy? Pause and think, ye 
who madly violate his laws! Who may abide the day 
of his coming? For he shall sit as a refiner to try 
every work, and every spirit what it is! 

Hide your diminished heads, ye that would bring 
down the Infinite Mind to your finite capacities!Boast 



397 

no more more your conclusions drawn from the lim- 
ited views which you have of his operations. Use 
your reason no longer as a weapon against him who 
bestowed it; lest a dart, launched by an unseen hand, 
strike through your heart; and the arrows of the 
Almighty be lodged in your bosom, the poison whereof 
shall drink up your spirit! '-Kiss the son, lest he be 
angry, and ye perish from the way; when his wrath is 
kindled but a little!" "but the thunder of his 

POWER who can understand?'^ 



NOTES. 
LECTURE I. 

Note 1. — It would not be difficult to enlarge the catalogue 
of idols, enumerated in the pages of the preceding Lec- 
ture, and to assign the different causes of their deification: but 
to unfold their character, which in that case it would be neces- 
sary to do, would be an ungracious task to the writer, and would 
afford no pleasure to the reader. Our immortal poet has given 
an ample list of the objects of heathen adoration, under their 
scriptural names; which will be more familiar to the Bible 
reader; and while he has veiled their actions in modest lan- 
guage, he has adorned the sad catalogue, so far as it is possible 
to ornament a barren list, with the nervous eloquence of his 
majestic versification. An abbreviation of his recital is ex- 
tracted. 

*'Say, Muse, their names then known, who first, who last 
Rous'd from the slumber, on that fiery couch, 
At their great emperor's call, as next in worth 
Came singly where he stood on the bare strand. 
While the promiscuous crowd stood yet aloof.'* 



"First Moloch,* horrid king, besmear'd with blood 
Of human sacrifice, and parents* tears; 
Though for the noise of drums and timbrels loud, 
Their children's cries unheard, that pass'd through fire 
To his grim idol. Him the Ammonite 
Worshipp*d in Rabba and her watery plain, 
In Argob and in Basan, to the stream 
Of utmost Arnon." 

"Next Chemos, th' obscene dread of Moab*s sons 
From Aroar to Nabo, and the wild 
Of southmost Abarim; in Hesebon 

•It is not easy to determine to which of the heathen deities these 
Hebrew names apply. Saturn^ probably, for his rites are nearly the 
^arae. " 



400 

And Horonaim, Seon's realm, beyond 
The flowery dale of Sibma, clad with vines, 
And Eleale to th* Asphaltic pool. 
Peor, his other name, when he entic'd 
Israel in Sittim." • ' 

With these came they who from the bordering flood 
Of old Euphrates to the brook that parts 
Egypt from Syrian ground, had general names 
Of Baalim and Ashtaroth; those male. 

These feminine.!" ■ 

"With these in troop 

Came Astoreth, whom the Phenicians call'd 
Astarte,* queen of heaven, with crescent hornsj 
To whose bright image nightly, by the moon, 
Sidonian virgins paid their vows and songs." 



"ThamuzI came next behind, 



Whose annual wound in Lebanon allur'd 
The Syrian damsels to lament his fate 
In amorous ditties all a summer*s day." 



"Next came one 



Who mourn*d in earnest, when the captive ark 

Maim*d his brute image — » 

Dagon^ his name, sea-monster, upward man 

And downward fish: • 

. dreaded through the coast 



Of Palestine- 



Him followed Rimmon, whose delightful seat 
"Was fair Damascus. " 



'After these, appear'd 



A crew, who, under names of old renown, 

Osiris, Ibis, Orus, and their train, 

With monstrous shapes and sorceries abus'd 

J'anatic Egypt and her priests, to seek 

Their wandering gods, disguis'd in brutish forms 



•* Called also Luna, DianOt Hecate. \Ado,ni^. 

t Probably Neptune, 



401 

Rather than human. Nor did Israel 'scape 
Th* infection, when their borrow*d gold compos*d 
The calf in Oreb; and the rebel king 
Doubled that sin in Bethel and in Dan." 

* The rest were long to tell, though far renown'dj 

Th* Ionian gods, of Javan's issue held 

Gods, yet confess'd later than heav'n and earth. 

Their boasted parents: Titan, heav'n*s first-born, 

With his enormous brood, and birth -right, seiz'd 

By younger Saturn; he from mightier Jove, 

His own and Rhea's son, like measure found; 

So Jove usurping reign'd; these first in Crete 

And Ida known, thence on the snowy top 

Of cold Olympus rul'd the middle air. 

Their highest heaven; or on the Delphian* cliff, 

Or in Dodona, and through all the bounds 

Of Doric land; or who with Saturn old 

Fled over Adria to the Hesperian fields. 

And o'er t^ie Celtic roam'd the utmost Isles." 

Milton's Paradise Lost, Book I. 1.376—521, 

Note 2. — The custom of the Carthaginians of consuming 
children in honor of Saturn. 

Diodorus Siculus had been saying, that as the enemy ap- 
proached the city, the Carthaginians imagined that they had of- 
fended Saturn by restraining their human sacrifices: he adds, 
^'therefore that they might correct their errors without delay, 
they immolated in public sacrifice two hundred chosen boys of 
their principal nobility." And he thus describes the idol Saturn: 
<^For there was with them a brazen statue of Saturn, which held 
its extended arms so inclined towards the earth, that the child 
^vhen placed upon it rolled off, and piunged into a furnace full 
■of fire." niod. Sic, Lib. xx. 

Justin speaks of the same cruel superstition, thus: "They 
immolated men as victims, and children, whose" tender years 
excited the pity even of enemies, they placed upon their altars, 
purchasing peace of the gods by the blood of those for whose 
life they were accustomed principally to implore the gods.'* 

Just. His. Lib. xviii. cap. 6. 

•The Orack of Apolh. 

51 



This horrible custom is mentioned also by Herodotus, Lib.viio 
The English reader may consult Rollin*s Ancient History 
vol. i, p. 273. 

Note 3.— .These are the melancholy sentiments which Ho«' 
mer puts into the mouth of the shade of A.chilles: 
"Talk not of ruling in this dorrous gloom, 
Nor think vain words (he cry*d) can ease my doom. 
Rather 1 choose laboriously to bear 
A weight of woes, and breathe the vital air, 
A slave to some poor hind that toils for bread, 
Than reign the sceptred monarch of the dead!" 

PoJie*s Odyas. Book xi, I. 595—600. 

Note 4.-— Socrates is represented by Plato as thus expres- 
sing his expectations of a legislator qualified to reveal the mind 
of Deity to the human race: "that it is necessary to wait till 
such a personage shall appear to teach them how they ought to 
conduct themselves, both towards God, and towards man." He 
goes on to exclaim with fervor— -"() when shall that period 
arrive! And who shall be that teacher? How ardently do I de- 
sire to see this man, who he is! Alcibiad. H. de Precat. 

In reference to the same personage he says, that this Legis- 
lator must be of higher than human extraction: for that as 
beasts are governed by men, must man be guided by a nature 
superior to his own. De Leg, lib. 4, 

LECTURE II. 

Note 3. — Among the ancient philosophers, various modifi- 
cations of the hypothesis which supposes the eternity of the 
world, are to be found. 

Ocellus Lucanus, who lived a short time before Plato, was 
one of the most ancient asserters of the world's eternity. A 
short treatise, bearing his name, yet remains, upon this subject: 
Ocell. Lucan. de Univ. p. 506. inter opusc. mythol. edit, per T. 
Gale, 1688. The arguments which he produces will not be 
considered as the most decisive and satisfactory that could be 
wished: for he asserts, that the world must be eternal, because 
its figure and motion are circular; and because it is impossible 
for any thing to arise out of nothing, or to fall again into noth- 
iog- 



403 

Aristotle maintained, that not only the world, but that man- 
kind, and all species of animals, have existed from eternity, 
without any original production; and that the earth, with all 
its variations, and in all its parts, has ever been what it now is. 
The later Platonists deduce their principal arguments in fa- 
vor of the eternity of the world, from the eternity of God*s de- 
cree for its creation, "and the indivisibility of the real duration 
of God." They maintain that God always existed; that his 
decree was eternal; and that there could not be a time in which 
it did not exist in the Divine mind. Be it so: there remains 
still much perplexity in their reasoning; and, as it appears to 
me, much sophism in their deductions. There must be a dif- 
ference between ideal (if the expression be lawful) and actual 
creation; and I do not see how it can be proved, that the decree 
was not anterior to the accomfilishment of that decree. 

Xenophanes and his followers supposed, that God and the 
world were one and the same thing; and of course held its eter- 
nity and immutability. This, again, has been denied by others: 
but there is so much obscurity in the statement which these 
philosophers have made of their own opinions, that if they did 
not mean this, it is difficult to decide what hypothesis they did 
intend to convey. 

Of one or the other of these opinions respecting the eternity 
of the world, appear to have been Strato, of Lampsacus, and 
Alexander the Epicurean, the contemporary of Plutarch, 

Others supposed the matter of the world to be eternal, but 
not the /orm of it. These, in fact, held the eternity of the chaos, 
to which they attributed a certain motion arising from the ac- 
tion and reaction of the first four qualities, producing the earth 
by mere fortuitous fluctuations; and thus, this hypothesis 
resolves itself into the preceding one, viz. that the world itself 
was produced by chance. 

The reader who may wish to see a larger and more laborious 
statement of these several hypotheses, and others, not brought 
forward in this note, will find a full and satisfactory discussion 
of them in Anc. Univ. Hist. vol. i, p. 77-^91; title, The Cos- 
mogony. But in some later 8vo. editions, these statements 
^re transferred to vol. xviii, Appendix, p. 114---1^6^ 



404 

Note 4. Extracted from Ovid. 

TRANSLATION BY DRYDEN. 

"Before the seas, and this terrestrial ballj 

And heav'n's high canopy, that covers all, 

One was the face of nature; if a face, 

Rather a rude and indigested mass: 

A lifeless lump, unfashion'd, and unfram'd, 

Of jarring seeds; and justly Chaos nam'd. 

No sun was lighted up, the world to view. 

No moon did yet her blunted horns renew; 

Nor yet was earth suspended in the sky; 

Nor pois'd, did on her own foundations lie: 

Nor seas about the shores their arms had thrown; 

But earth, and air, and water were in one. 

Thus, air was void of light, and earth unstable, 

And waters dark abyss unnavigable. 

No certain form on any was imprest; 

All were confus'd, and each disturbed the rest. 

For hot and cold, were in one body fixt; 

And soft with hard, and light with heavy mixt. 

"But God, or Nature, while they thus contend, 
To these intestine discords puts an end; 
Then earth from air, and seas from earth were driven, 
And grosser air sunk from ethereal heaven. 
Thus, disembroil'd, they take their proper place; 
The next of kin, contiguously embrace; 
And foes are sunder'd, by a larger space. 
The force of lire ascended first on high. 
And took its dwelling in the vaulted sky: 
Then air succeeds, in lightness next to fire; 
Whose atoms from unactive earth retire. 
Earth sinks beneath, and draws a num'rous throng 
Of pond'rous, thick, unwieldy seeds along. 
About her coasts, unruly waters roar; 
And, rising on a ridge, insult the shore. 

"Thus when tlie God, whatever God was he, 
Had form'd the whole, and rnade tlVe parts agi^ee, 
That no unequal portions might be found, 
He moulded earth into a spacipus round: 



1 



405 

Then with a breath he gave the winds to blow^ 

And bade the congregated waters flow. 

He adds the running springs, and standing lakes; 

And bounding banks for winding rivers m^ikes. 

Some part in earth are swallow'd up, the most 

In ample oceans disemboguM, are lost. 

He shades the woods, the vallies he restrains 

With rocky mountains, and extends the plains. 

"And as five zones th* etherial regions bind, 
Five correspondent, are to earth assign'd: 
The sun with rays, directly darting down, 
Fires all beneath, and fries the middle zone: 
The two beneath the distant poles, complain 
Of endless winter, and perpetual ^ain. 
Betwixt th' extremes, two happier climates hold 
The temper that partakes of hot, and cold. 
The fields of liquid air, inclosing all, 
Surround the compass of this earthly ball: 
The lighter parts lie next the fires above; 
The grosser near the wat*ry surface move; 
Thick clouds are spread, and storms engender there, 
And thunder's voice, which wretched mortals fear, 
And windslhat on their wings cold winter bear. 
Nor were these blust'ring brethren left at large, 
On seas, and shores, their fury to discharge: 
Bound as they are, and circumscribed in place. 
They rend the world, resistless as they pass; 
And mighty marks of mischief leave behind; 
Such is the rage of their tempestuous kind, 

*'First, Eurus to the rising morn is sent, 
(The regions of the balmy continent;) 
And eastern realms, where early Persians run, 
To greet the blest appearance of the sun. 
Westward the wanton Zephyr wings his flight; 
Pleas'd with the remnants of departing light. 
Fierce Boreas, with his offspring, issues forth 
T' invade the frozen waggon of the north; 
While frowning Auster seeks the southern sphere, 
And rots, with endless rain, th' unwholesome vear. 



} 



406 



'■'High o'er the clouds, and empty realm^s of wind, 
The God a clearer space for heaven design'd; 
Where fields of light and liquid aether flow, 
Purg'd from the pond'rous dregs of earth below. 

<*Scarce had tho Power distinguish'd these, when straight, 
The stars, no longer overlaid with weight, 
Exert their heads, from underneath the mass; 
And upward shoot, and kindle as they pass, 
And with diffusive light adorn their heavenly place, 
Then, every void of nature to supply, 
With forms of gods he fills the vacant sky: 
New herds of beasts, he sends the plains to share: 
New colonies of birds to people air: 
And to their oozy beds, the finny fish repair. 

"A creature of a more exalted kind 
Was wanting yet, and then was man design'd: 
Conscious of thought, of more capacious breast, 
For empire form'd, and fit to rule the rest: 
Whether with particles of heavenly fire 
The God of nature did his soul inspire , 
Or earth, but new divided from the sky, 
And pliant, still retain'd th* etherial energy: 
Which wise Promotheus* temper'd into paste. 
And mix*d with living streams the godlike image cast. 
Thus, while the mute creation downward bend 
Their sight, and to their earthly mother tend, 
Man looks aloft; and with erected eyes 
Beholds his own hereditary skies. 
From such rude principles our form began; 
And earth was metamorphos'd into man." 

Garth*s Ovid, vol. i, p. 5.r-9. 

Note 5.— -Testimony to the majesty of the scriptures from 
Longinus in his treatise on the sublime. He had been saying 
that, "those who speak of God, ought to be careful to represent 
him as great, and pure, and without alloy:" He adds, "Thus 

* **Japetus"— -or Japhet. 



I 



407 

the legislator of the Jews, a man of no common genius, con- 
ceived and spake justly of the power of Deity, when in the very- 
beginning of his laws, he writes — "God said,** (said he) What? 
"Be light, and it was: Be earth, and' it was so.'* 

Dion. Long, de Sublim» Sec. ix, p. 50, Pearce's Edit. 
Longinus lived in the time of Aureiian the emperor, and was 
a favorite of Zenobia, queen of the Palmy rians. His treatise 
*'on the sublime," from which the above extract is taken, is, irj 
itself, a master-piece of eloquence. 



LECTURE III. 

Note 1. — For the enumeration of ancient testimonies, to hu- 
man longevity, by Josephus. 

See Josefih Antiq. Jud. lib. I, cap. 3, vol. i, Hudson's edit. 

I cannot find any passage in Hesiod directly specifying the 
years of the first men: but he gives a beautiful description of 
the golden age, and its influence in the prolongation of human 
life in Ditb. et Ofier. v. 130, et seq. Hudson supposes, in his 
note upon this passage in Josephus, that Ho-^ifo? might be written 
for icr/4,go?: "intelligendo Isidorum Characcnum; qui (ut con- 
stat ex Luciano de Macrobiis) in Historia sua attulit exempla 
regum longaevorum.'* He says, however, that it is uniformly 
written Hsr/ccfc? in all the Greek manuscripts: but in the Latin, 
variously, Isiodus, Lszodus, Isiodorus^ and Isidorus. 

Note 2. — Testimony of Catullus to the infamy of the old 
world. 

"But when the earth became stained with nameless wicked- 
ness, and divers lusts banished integrity fram the mind; then, a 
brother's hand shed fraternal blood— the son ceased to deplore 
his deceased parents — the father desired the funeral of hio first 
born->--lhe son to enjoy his unmarried step-mother — the impious 
mtither yielding to her thoughtless offspring, feared not to pol- 
lute the temple of the Gods: all things, just and unjust, were 
thus blended together by furious passion; and the propitious 
mind of the Gods turned away from us." CatuL Efiith. Pel. et 
Thet. Can there be a more striking conitfrrwrtian of the apos- 



408 

lie's assertion, respecting the heathen world, that "they were 
given over to a reprobate mind?'* or a better comment upon the 
declaration of Moses, that "the earth was filled with violence?" 

Note 6. — Extract, from Dr. Geddes, respecting the quantity 
of water required for an universal deluge; and the sources 
whence it might be supposed to be derived. 

^^ Fifteen cubits ufiivard did the ivaters firevaili and the moun- 
tains ivere covered. This has been always accounted one of the 
most unaccountable phenomena of the deluge, and 1ms, more 
than any other circumstance attending it, perplexed and puzzled, 
commentators. The most ingenious solution of the difficulty 
which I have ever met with, is one gent to me, some years ago, 
by Sir Henry Englefield, which I shall here give in his own 
words: 

»The diameter of the earth being taken at 8000 miles; and 
the highest mountain being supposed four miles high above the 
level of the sea,* the quantity of water requisite to cover them 
will be an hollow sphere of 8008 miles diameter, and four miles 
thick; the content of which, in round numbers, is 800,000,000 
cubic miles. — Let us now suppose the globe of the earth to 
consist of a crust of solid matter, 1000 miles thick, enclosing a 
sea, or body of water, 2000 miles deep; within which is a cen- 
tral nucleus of 2000 miles in diameter: the content of that body 
of water will be 109,200,000,000 cubic miles; or about 137 times 
the quantity of water required to cover the surface of the earth 
as above stated. Now water, by experiment, expands about one 
25th of its whole magnitude, from freezing to boiling, or one 
hundredth af its magnitude for 45 degrees of Fahrenheit's ther- 
mometer. Suppose, then, that the heat of the globe, previously 
to the deluge, was about 50 degrees of Fahrenheit's, a temper- 
ature very near that of this climate; and that a sudden change 
took place in the interior of the globe, which raised its height 
to 83 degrees; an heat no greater than the marine animals live 
in, in the shallow seas between the tropics; those 23 degrees of 
augmented heat would so expand the internal sea, as to cause it 
to more than cover the surface of the globe, according to the 

• "This is more than the height of the Andes." 



409 

conditions above mentioned: and if the cause of heat ceased, 
the waters would of course, in cooling, retire into their proper 
places — If the central nucleus be supposed 3000 miles, and the 
internal sea only 1500 miles deep, its contents will then be 
99,200,000,000 cubic miles; or, 125 times the water required, 
and in that case, an additional heat of 36 degrees to the previ- 
ous temperature of the earth, will be sufficient to produce the 
above described effect. — It is scarce necessary to say, that the 
perfect regularity here supposed to exist in the form of the in 
terior parts of the globe, is of no consequence to the proposed 
hypothesis; which will.be equally just, if the above given quan- 
tity of waters be any how disposed within the earth Neither 

is it here proposed to discuss the reality of a central fire, which 
many philosophers maintain, and many deny. It may not be 
unworthy to remark, that the above hypothesis, which does not 
in any way contradict any law of nature, does singularly accord 
with the Mosaic narrative of the deluge: for the sudden expan- 
sion of the internal waters would, of course, force them up 
through the chasms of the exterior crust in dreadful jets and 
torrents; while their heat would cause such vapors to ascend 
into the atmosphere, as, when condensed; would produce tor- 
rents of .rain beyond our conception.' 

"The possibility of an universal deluge, then; of a delugr 
lism^^fteen cubits above the highest mountains^ can hardly be 
denied. It is not at all necessary to suppose, with Sir Henry, 
that the antediluvian mountains were as high as those of the 
present earth. They may have been of a very different form 
and size, and composed of other materials." 

Dr. Geddes, vol. z, Crit. Rem, on Gen. viz, 20, i5'c. 
After all, this great critic, as usual, labors, to lower the Mo- 
saic account; and thinks "that a great deal of the fabulous is 
mixed with the history of Noah's flood." The humble opinion 
of the writer of these Lectures, differs widely from him, in 
this respect; and he is satisfied with taking this ingenious hy- 
pothesis, which eve?i Dr. Geddes admits, proves such a deluge 
possible, without accepting his concluding observations. 

Note 7. — Experiment by the Bishop of Landaff, on the 
quantity of water exhaled from the earth on a summei's day. 
.52 



410 

"Who would have conjectured, that an acre of ground, even 
after having been parched by the heat of the sun in summer? 
dispersed into the air, above 1600 gallons of water, in the space 
of twelve of the hottest hours of the day? No vapor is seen to 
ascend; and we little suppose, that in the hottest part of the day, 
it more usually does ascend than in any other. The experiment 
from which I draw this conclusion, is so easy to be made, that 
every one may satisfy himself the truth of it. On the 2d day of 
June, 1779, when the sun shone bright and hot, I put a large 
drinking glass, with its mouth downwards, upon a grass-plat 
W'hich was mown close; there had been no rain for above a 
month, and the grass was become brown: in less than two min- 
utes, the inside of the glass was clouded with a vapor, and in 
balf an hour, drops of water began to trickle down its inside, in 
various places. This experiment was repeated several times 
with the same success. 

"That I might accurately estimate the quantity, thus raised, in 
a certain portion of time, I measured the area of the mouth of 
the glass, and found it to be twenty square inches: there ar« 
1296 square inches in a yard, and 4840 square yards in a statute 
acre; hence, if we can find the means of measuring the quantity 
of vapor raised from twenty square inches of earth, suppose in 
one quarter of an hour, it will be an easy matter to calculate the 
quantity which would be raised, with the same degree of heat, 
from an acre in twelve hours. The method I took to measure 
the quantity of vapor, was not, perhaps, the most accurate 
which might be thought of, but it was simple and easy to be 
practised: when the glass had stood on the grass-plat one 
quarter of an hour, and had collected a quantity of vapor, I wip- 
ed its inside with a piece of muslin, the weight of which had 
been previously taken; as soon as the glass was wiped dry, the 
muslin was weighed agai'3, its increase of weight shewed the 
quantity of vapor which had been collected. The medium in- 
crease of weight, from several experiments made on the same 
day, between twelve and three o'clock, was six grains, collected 
in one quarter of an hour, from twenty square inches of earth. 
If the reader takes the trouble to make the calculation, he will 
find, that above 1600 gallons reckoning eighfpints to a gallon, 
and estimating the weight of a pint of water at one pound 
avoirdupois, or 7000 grains Troy-weight, would be raised at the 



411 

rate here mentioned, from an acre of ground in twenty-four 
hours. 

"It may easily be conceived, that the quantity thus elevated, 
will be greater when the ground has been well soaked with 
rain, provided the heat be the same. I did not happen to mark 
the heat of the ground, when I made the fore-mentioned ex- 
periments. The two following, are more circumstantial: the 
ground had been wetted, the day before I made them, by a 
thunder-shower; the heat of the earth, at the time of making' 
them, estimated by a thermometer laid upon the grass, was 
ninety-six degrees; one experiment gave 1973 gallons from an 
acre in twelve hours; the other gave 1905. Another experi° 
ment made when there had been no rain for a week, and the 
heat of the earth was one hundred and ten degrees, gave after the 
rate of 2800 gallons from an acre in twelve hours. The earth 
was hotter, than the air, as it was exposed to the reflection of 
the sun's rays from a brick wall." 

Tfatson*s Chemical Essays^ vol. 3y fi. 52—56. 



LECTURE IV. 

Note 2.— -The giant's war described by different ancient poetSo, 

See Horn, Odys. xi^ 

Proud of their strength, and more than mortal size, 
The gods they challenge, and affect the skies, 
Heav'd on Olympus, tott'ring Ossa stood. 
On Ossa, Pelion nods with all his wood. 

Pofie's Horn. Odys, b. xi, I. 385—388. 

Mso Virg. Georg. lib. z, v. 279-r-28S. 
— >Jlnd cruel Tyfihoeus, and the brethren^ leagued to, 

scale heaveni Thrice^ indeed, they attemfited to pile Ossa ufion 
Pelion,* and to roll woody Olymfius^ upon Ossa: thrice the Path' 
'Cr of heaven overthrew the mountains, thus heajied up with 
thunder. 

Also Ovid Met. fab. w, lib, ^i;, 151—155. 



• Two high mountains in Thessaly. 

I An hill between Thessaly and Macedon, so high, that the h^atKcii 
^oets iisually apply its name to heaven. 



412 

Nor were the gods themselves more safe above, 

Against beleaguer'd heav'n the giants move: 

Hills pil'd on hills, on miountains, mountains lie, 

To make their mad afijiroaches to the sky. 

Till Jove, no longer patient, took his time 

T*avenge, vi^ith thunder, their audacious crime; 

Red lightening play'd along the firmament, 

And their demoiish'd works to pieces rent. Dryden. 

Garth's Ovid, b. z, /. 193, ?i^c. 
Note 3. See page 123, Joseph, quottition from one of the 
Sybils. 

Note 4. — Testimony of Abydenus, preserved by Eusebius; 

Ex Abydeno. Euseb. Pre.ji. ix^ c. 14. 
Translated in page 124. 

Note 5.— Retraik of Grotius respecting the building of Bab- 
ylon: "Falso autem a Graesis proditum, conditam a Semiramide 
Babylonem, etiam Berosus in Chalduicis prodidit, ut nos Jose- 
phus docet contra Appionem, primo: eundemque errorem tuni 
ex Philone Biblio, turn ex Dorotheo Sidonio refellit Julius Fir- 
micus. Vide et quse de gigantibus a turri ex Eupolemo nobis 
adducit Eusebius Prseparat. Evangeiicse lib. xx, cap. If." 

Groi. de Relig. Christ. § xvi^ in not. 63. 

LECrURE V. 

Note 1.— Testimony to the fact that the Chaldeans worship- 
ped fire, extracted from the works of the pious and eloquent 
Saurin. 

Saur. Dies, sur la Bible, Tome I. disc, xi. fi. 78. 

"There is a remarkable passage in Rufin respecting the idol- 
atry of the Ctialdeans: the testimony of this author is confirmed 
by that of Suidas: 

"They say that the Chaldeans formerly carried fire, which 
was their God, through all the provinces, to contend with all 
the other divinities, that whoever conquered in this combat 
rpight be deemed the true one. The deities of air, of goldj. oi" 



413 

silver, of wood, and of stone, were easily consunried by the fire, 
which had the superiority over all. A priest of Canopus be- 
thought himself of this stratagem. The Egyptians had certain 
vases of earth, which had little apertures on all sides, and which 
were designed to filtrate the water of the Nile. He filled one 
of these vases with water: he closed all the holes of it with 
wax: he placed a head upon it, which was said to be that of 
Menelaus, and he exalted it to a divinity. The Chaldeans 
kindled the fire round this vase, that these two deities might 
contend together. But the fire having quickly melted the > wax 
which covered the aperture of the pitcher, it was presently ex- 
tinguished by the water which issued from it, and the priest of 
Canopus obtained the victory.*' 
"These are the words of Rufin.'* 

Note 2 — There is a singular coincidence between the lan- 
guage used by the Deity, in his conference with Abraham, and 
the words which Ovid puts into the mouth of his Juijiter. In 
the one case, it is to be considered altogether as a figure of 
speech, for the Deity could obtain no additional information, by 
descending in a human form: in the latter instance, the poet 
speaks in exact conformity to the ideas which the heathens en- 
tertained of the limited knowledge of their divinities. We 
will lay the passages together. 

MosEs. 

"And the Lord said. Because the cry of Sodo7n and Gomor- 
rah is great ^ dLX\d because their sin is uerij grevious: I will go 
down nowy and see whether they have done altogether according 
to the cry of it, which is come unto me; and if not, I will know." 

Gen. xviiit 20, 21. 

^^'The INFAMY of the times had reached our ears: wishing 
it might be false, I descended from high Olympus, and, a 
god, I passed through the earth under a human form.*' 

Note 3 — ^The several testimonies collected from different 
ancient writers, respecting the lake Asphaltites and its vicinity, 
with the traditions of its destruction by fire are translated in 
page 155. 

Ovid Met. lib, i, 21 1—218. 



414 

Many travellers bear a testimeny to the unhcalthiness of the 
air about the lake: the monks who live in the neighborhood, 
\v@uld have dissuaded Dr. Pococke frorii bathing- in these sin- 
gular waters: he ventured in, however, and was, two days after, 
seized with a dizziness, and violent pain in the stomach, which 
lasted nearly three weeks, and which they imputed to his rash» 
liess} nor does he contradict them. 

Note 4. — The day of judgment is a doctrine of Christianity: 
yet is it worthy remark, that the heathens cherished some vague 
opinions, and held some uncertain traditions, that the earth, and 
the orbs arounxl us, are to be consumed by fire, as the following 
extracts will prove. 

When fate commands the final hour, 
And conquering Time's resistless power 

Dissolves creation's frame; 
Stars mix'd with stars shall vainly try, 
In ocean's boundless waves, to fly 
The universal flame. 

The land no more shall guard the sea, 

The moon shall strive to rule the day, 

The shatter'd sphere shall burn: 

The whole machine to ruin hurl'd. 

Discord shall triumph o'er the world. 

And chaos shall return. 

Lucan. Phras. lib., i. v. 72 — 80. 

Stars shall rush upon stars, every thing material shall be 

consumed; and whatever now shines in order, shall perish in 

one common fire! 

^enete.'ifine ad Mar dam. 

Ovid represents his Jupiter, when resolved to ijunish the 

earth, choosing water, and checking his thunder, for the foUoWr 

ing reason: 

He stopt, for fear, thus violently driv'n, 

The sparks should catch his axle-tree of hcav'n. 

Rememb'rin^ in the fates, a time when fire 

Should to the battlements of heav'n aspire, 

And all his blazing wo rids above should burn, 

And all th' inferior globe to cinders turn. 

Dryden — Garth's Ovid. b. i. 1. 346 — 350. 



415 
LECTURE VI. 

Note I. — See page 181, and 182. 

' Note 2 — It is impossible to read the account given by 
Moses of the meeting of Jacob and Joseph, without calling to 
mind the masterly description furnished by Homer, in his Odys- 
sey, of the discovery of Ulysses to Telemachus; and a very- 
slight pamllel will shew the superiority of the sacred historian* 
over the genius of even Homer. 

Odys. lib. xvi,l. 188, 189: 213, 214, 215. 

"I am thy father. O my son! my sen! 
That father, for whose sake thy days have run 
One scene of woe; to endless cares consign'd, 
And outraged by the wrongs of base mankind." 

"He spoke and sat. The prince with transport flew, 
Hung round his neck while tears his cheek bedew; 
Nor less the father pour'd a social flood! 
They wept abundant, and they wept aloud. 
P fie* s Homer's Odyss. b.xvi^l.2QQ — 209:234 — 237. 

"And he wept aloud — And Joseph said unto his brethren, I 
am Joseph. Doth my father yet live? And his brethren could 
not answer him; for they were troubled at his resence. And 
Joseph said unto his brethren, Come near to me, I pray you; 
and they came near: and he said, I am Joseph, your brother 

whom ye sold into Egypt.*' '*And he fell upon his brother 

Benjamin's neck and wept; and Benjamin wept upon his neck.*' 

—"And Joseph made ready his chariot, and went up to 
meet Israel his father to Goshen; and presented himself unto 
him: and he fell on his neck, and wept on his neck a good 
while. And Israel said^unto Joseph, Now let me die, since I 
have seen thy face; because thou art yet alive." 

Mr. Pope, in his notes on this beautiful passage in Homer, says 
— "This book (i. e. xvi) in general is very beautiful in the origi- 
nal; the discovery of Ulysses to Telemachus is particularly ten- 
der and aff'ecting. It has some resemblance with that of Joseph's 
discovery of himself to his brethren, and it may not perhaps be 
disagreeable to see how two such authors describe the same 
parssion." 



416 

Moses, Homer. 

I am Joseph — "I am Ulysses— 

I am your brother Joseph— I, my son, am he— 

And he wept aloud-- He wept abundant — 

And he fell on his brother's And he wept aloudl" 

neck, and wept 

"But it must be owned that Homer falls infinitely short oi 
Moses: the history of Joseph cannot be read without the ut- 
most touches of compassion and transport. There is a majestic 
simplicity in the whale relation, and such an affecting portrait 
of human nature, that it overwhelms us with vicissitudes of joy 
and sorrow. This is a pregnant instance how much the best 
of heathen writers is inferipr to the divine historian upon a par- 
allel subject." 

In these just sentiments I most heartily concur. And it 
would most amply repay any reader capable of understanding 
the original, to compare the whole of Homer's narration in 
Odyss. lib. xvi, from line 172 to line 232, with that of Moses in 
Gen. xlv, throughout, and xlvi, 28 — 30. It will be soon seen 
to whom we must yield the palm of excellence. 

LECTURE VII L 

Note 1. — The discussion respecting the nature of the mir- 
acles'performed by the magicians, which was delivered in 
the Lecture, because it would have prolonged the exercise 
beyond all reasonable bounds, because the opposite opinions 
of different writers might have bewildered the attention of 
hearers, and because it would have digressed too far from 
the object, and would have broken the chain of the narra- 
tive, may perhaps not be deemed uninteresting as an ap- 
pendix, and may be allowed the place of a note. 

The sentiments of the writers of the Encyclopaedia Brit- 
TANNiCA are thus expressed: 

"The first magicians of whom we read are those who in 
Egypt opposed Moses. And we are told, that when Aaron 
cast down his rod, and it became a serpent, they also did the 
like with their enchantments; <for they cast down every man his 
rod, and they became serpents.' This was a phenomenon 
which, it must be confessed, had a very miraculous appear- 



417 

ance; and yet thei-e seems to have been nothing in it whiqh 
might not have been effected by slight of hand. The Egyp- 
tians, and pcriiaps the inhabitants of every country where ser- 
pents abound, have the art of depriving them of the power to 
do mischief, so that they may be handled without danger. It 
was easy for the magicians, who were favored by the court, to 
pretend that they changed their rods into serpents, by dexter- 
ously substituting one of those animals in place of the rod. In 
like manner they might pretend to change water into blood, 
and to produce frogy; for if Moses gave in these instances, as 
as we know he did in others, any previous information of the 
nature of liie miracles which were to be wrought, the magi- 
cians might easily provide themselves in a quantity of blood 
and number of frogs sufficient to answer their purpose of de- 
ceiving the people. Beyond this, however, their power could 
not go. It stopped where that of all workers in legerdemain 
must have stopt — at the failure of proper materials to work 
with. Egypt abounds with serpents; blood could be easily 
procured; and without difficulty they might have frogs from 
the river: but when Moses produced lice from the dust of the 
ground, the miagicians, who had it not in their pov.er to collect 
a sufficient quantity of these animals, were compelled to own 
this to be an effect of divine agency." 

Encyclofi. Bvlt. Vol. x. Pt. II. Art, Magic. 
I am neither convinceJ by this reasoning, nor can admit into 
my belief, this representation. It goes upon the supposition 
that Moses announced his miracles previous to the perform- 
ance of them, which it is admitted he did in some instances, but 
it cannot be proved that he did it in ali, neither does it appear 
from the sacred history, that he did it in relation especially to 
the first miracle. Whatever were their skill in legerdemain, 
it would cost them some trouble to conceal the quantity of ser- 
pents, frogs, blood. Sec. necessary to rival the miracles of Moses; 
and if there was not something like rivalry, and that success- 
ful rivalry, it was not a principle on which Pharaoh could be 
encouraged; and the circumstance of the magicians perform- 
ing correspondent miracles with those of Moses, appears to be 
that^ in the first instance, upon which his heart was hardened. 
And it is improbable that Moses should not have the power to 
detect the imposition, and to expose the cheat, which would 

53 



418 

certainly have been both his duty, and his interest, if the fact 
were as this hypothesis supposes. 

The learned writers of the Ancient Universal History, state 
fairly the divided sentiments of different commentators on this 
difficult subject, but appear to lean to the opinion that these 
miracles were performed by the agency of evil spirits, and not 
by legerdemain. They thus express their sentiments generally, 
on the possibility of the operations of such spirits. "That such 
a commerce is, or at least formerly was, possible, we cannot 
but confess; and we conceive it very difficult to account for sev- 
eral passages in scripture, without allowing it to have been 
practised. However, much the greater part of what has been 
attributed to this sort of magic, was undoubtedly the effect of 
imposture and delusion, which have been so apparent in sever- 
al instances, as to tempt one almost to believe the same of all 
the rest." Anc. Univ. Hist. Vol. I. b. i. chap. 3. p 587. 

Upon the miracles in question their ideas are expressed in 
language still more explicit. They state the two following 
reasons as evidences generally produced in favor of the opin- 
ion, that these miracles were wrought by the agency of evil 
spirits: "First, because the scriptures of the Old and New 
Testament seem to attribute some such pov/er to evil spirits; 
and secondly, because Moses expressed himself in such terms 
as manifestly shew, that they really imitated him in all those 
wonders they wrought." They go on to criticise the express 
phrases which he used in describing the miracles of the magi- 
cians. He says, that ''Uhey cast down every man his rod, and 
they BECAME serfientsy They assign three reasons why God 
suffered them thus to contend against the wonders wrought by 
Moses, and to produce similar phenomena. "First, it was 
necessary that these magicians should be suffered to exert the 
utmost of their power against Moses, in order to clear him from 
the imputation of magic." "Secondly, it was necessary in order 
to confirm the faith of the wavering and desponding Israelites, 
by making them see the difference between Moses acting by 
the power of God, and the sorcerers by that of Satan. And 
lastly, in order to preserve them afterwards from being seduced 
by any false miracles from the true worship of God." 

jin. Univ. Hist. Vol. II, b. i. chap. 7. p. 562, note E. 
This representation appears to me to accord better with the 
Mosaic history, than the foregoing one. 



410 

'^ Dr. Hekry Hunter, with eloquence peculiar to himself, ex- 
hibits a strong reason for the permission given to the magi- 
cians partially to imitate the miracles of Moses. '^Reasoning: 
man will ask, Why were not impiety and infidelity checked 
in their very first attempt? Why were the demons of Egypt 
left in possession of the slightest vestige of power, to oppose, 
or to imitate the mighty power of God? why grant to Pharaoh 
and his magicians, even the momentary triumph of their in- 
cantations? The reason is obvious. Had the Egyptian enchant" 
ments been attended with no success, and produced no efi'ect, 
infidelity had its plea at hand. 'Your pretended miracle is mere 
illusion, an attempt to mislead our understanding, by imposing 
upon our senses. Though we cannot produce this particular 
effect, perform this particular trick, by our jart, we can ejfect 
wonders equally or much more astonishing. But, by being 
permitted to succeed in their first effort, and to rival Moses and 
Aaron so far- in power and reputation, they are insensibly 
drawn in, to give their sanction to the sign performed by the 
Hebrews, for the sake of their own credit; and no sooner is it 
stamped for currency, with their image and superscription, 
than they and their abettors are confounded, by seeing the 
wretched impression of their art effaced, annihilated; and no 
image remains visible but that of the living and true God. The 
power which swallowed up the magicians* rods, could as easily 
have prevented the transmutation; but the confutation is much 
more complete by the one than it would have been by the other. 
Impiety has shut her own mouth, and infidelity stands stripped 
of her last, and only plea." 

Hunter's Sacred Biog. Vol. HI, Lect. V. p. 1 15 117. 

The truly great and estimable Saurin, with equal ability and 
success, in an admirable and compact chain of reasoning, which 
however beautiful, cannot, on account of its copiousness, be 
admitted into this note, places the subject in four points of 
view. He tries it, first, by "the narrative of Moses:'* secondly, 
by "thf history of enchantments transmitted by every age:" 
thirdly, by "metaphysical speculations;" and fourthly, "at tlie 
tribunal of religion;** and in each of these modes of discussion, 
proves, that we shall find reasons for suspending our judg- 
ment on this mysterious subject. 

CorifiuU Saiir. Dine. '^c. sur la Bible: Tom. \. disc. xlvi^faL 



420 

To this modest ^nd ingenuous confession, I do most cheer- 
fully subscribe. 

After such a declaration, from sucli a man as Saurin, it would 
ill become me to attempt to determine upon so nice a point. 
But after so large statements of the views of others and such 
free comments upon them, it may perhaps be expected that I 
should as frankly avow my own opinion. Dr. Geddes, whose 
criticisms are often estimable, yet whose assertions are some- 
times announced without a pretension to reasoning, and whose 
conclusions are almost always levelled avowedly against the 
authority of Moses, has never discovered the traits which I have 
described, more decidedly than in his remarks on th6 
present subject. He notices the opinion of legerdemain, and 
syys, "the text is expressly against all such interpretations: 
and we may as well say, that the rod of Moses was not a real rod, 
as that the rods of the magicians <vere not real rods." — He 
differs, however, from eveiy solution which ever has been, or 
perhaps ever can be, given; and declares, '*It would be wiser, 
perhaps, although not so honest, to say nothing at all; but that 
is not my manner: I must suy what I think; let others think and 
speak as they please." And what is this opinion, which a pro- 
fessedly chrintian divine could entertain, and which his fidelity 
prompted him to publish to the world? "I am clearly of opinion 
that neither the magicians of Pharaoh, nor the legislator of the 
Hebrews, changed their rods into serpents, any more than the 
sorceress Circe turned the companions of Ulysses into swine: 
but that either the Hcbrev/ historian, whoever he was, invented 
the whole story; or that, if ever any such trial of magical skill 
took place, the deception was equal on both sides." 

Geddes'' Crit. Rem. Vol. I. on Exod. viii, p. 181, 8cc. 
And this is Bil)lical Criticism! And this is fair, candid rea- 
soning! And this is learned and liberal research! What then is 
to be deemed arrogant, unqualified assertion? What can he 
accounted indecent levity, and disrespectful trifling? If he did 
not blush to write such a passage, I should blush to comment 
upon it, so as to attempt a serious refutation of it! It was not 
thus that Jesus Christ himself spoke, and thought, of Moses, 
of his writings, and of his authority. 

With no less of integrity, I will candidly avow the opinion 
■^hich lam inclined to form upon a subject concerning which I 
dear not attempt to decide; and without presuming to press, 



421 

n)y sentiment upon any reaclei*, I shall state it as briefly ;>,? pf>s- 
sible, with tiie reasons upon which I hold it. Upon the w iiOic, 
I think, 

1. T/iai both the -mirachs fierformpd by Moses^ and those 
'wrought by the magicians were real, "For had not this been the 
case, would not Moses as easily have detected the imposition, 
as Elijah silenced the prophets of Baal? Has the Mosaic ac- 
count given the slightest intimation that they were phantoms? 
On the contrary? has he not spoken of them in the same terms, 
as he speaks of his own? I am also inclined to think, 

2. That the magicians knew not t^ie extent of their own {lowers. 
In making the experiment, they obeyed the command of Pharaoh." 
they were doubtless prepared to do their best, and to use what- 
ever deception the circumstances of the moment might allow. 
It is evident that they tried all the miracles of Moses, and could 
succeed but in a few; a decisive proof that they knew not where 
their power would be stayed, or to what point it would be per- 
mitted to extend. Perhaps they were as much surprised at 
their success, as the spectators could be, in the first instance^ 
So convinced were they of divine agency on the suspension of 
their partial power, that they confessed "this is the finger of 
God." But the miracle at which their agency ceased, was as 
easy to be performed, to all appearance, as those in which they 
succeeded; and the inference appears to be, that they were not 
effected by the power of art. It appears to me, 

3. That they must have fierformed these miracles by the fier- 
mission, and under the flower, of God. And when this power was 
withheld from them, aud continued to Moses, they instantly 
acknowledged the hand of Deity. 

4. Admitting that both Moses and the magicians wrought 
their respective miracles by the power or permission of God, 
when their capacity to effect them ceased, and that of Moses 
remained, a decisive evidence was afforded of the truth of his 
mission. 

5. The phrase, "they did it by their enchantments,*' does not 
appear to me to destroy this hypothesis, but only to mean, that 
they used some form and fiarade^ to in^press the minds of the 
spectators with veneration of their power and wisdom, and to 
secure to* themselves the credit and fame of ihcir success. 
This parade, however, availed them nothing, when thtir per- 



422 

Bfiission to work miracles expired, and they were ccmfipciled to 
acknowledge the interposition of divine power. 

In respect to this opinion, which is submitted with diffidence, 
the reader will form his own conclusion,-of its probability or the 
contrary. I will not avouch that it is original, although if it be 
borrowed, I cannot recollect the source from whence I drew it, 
nor of course make my acknowledgements. It is more than 
probable that I have met with it, in the course of reading, and 
treasure^ it up from its coincidence with my own views! but if 
I could trace it to its amhor, I would not hesitate to give a full 
reference to his own statement. It is common to every man 
who endeavors to digest, what he reads, to mingle the thoughts 
of others with his own: and it is not always easy to determine, 
which of our stores we may claim as original, and whicli wc 
ought to acknowledge as borrowed: nor to distinguish between 
that which we conceive and that which we only remember. 

Note 2. — Respecting the term of Israel's bondage, the writ- 
ers of the Ancient Universal History, afford the following inge- 
nious, and, as it appears to me, just solution. 

"It is plain, that the four hundred years of Abram*s seed 
sojourning in a strange land, must be reckoned not from their 
coming into E^ypt, but from the birth of Isaac. For all the 
time of their sojourning in the land of Canaan, Gerar, or any 
other, was still in a strange land, in which they had not a foot of 
ground, if we except the cave of Maohpelah. As to what is 
added that they shall likewise serve, and be iil-treated, it is com- 
monly understood to be spoken circumstantially, and nnight be 
put in a parenthesis, tlius, Hhey shall sojourn and be strangers 
(and likewise serve and be oppressed) during the space of four 
hundred years,' as St. Austin, and others, have fully proved. 
Accordingly we find Isaac oppressed in Gerar, his wells filled 
up by its inhabitants, and himself forced still farther from them, 
and Jacob served, and was oppressed by Laban near twenty 
years, yet neither of them labored under a con.tinual oppres- 
sion. The Egyptian servitude did not commence till after 
Joseph and all his brethren were dead; before tliat^ the Israel- 
ites lived in peace and plenty. Allowing, therefore, that Levi 
was forty-four years of age at his first coming ijito Egypt, 
which is the most that can be supposed, he must have lived 



423 

uinety-three years in Egypt, because the text tells us, that he 
died in the 137th year of his age. And these 93 years being 
subtracted from 215, the time of their abode there, there will 
remain but 1-22 years of thraldom, even supposing it to have 
began immediately after his death. The natural sense there- 
fore of this prophecy to Abraham can be only this, that his seed, 
from Isaac on, should be strangers in the land, that was not 
theirs, during the space of 400 years, during some part of 
which they should be oppressed, afflicted, and at length brought 
under bondage; which term being expired, they should find a 
happy deliverance." 

jijic. Univ. Hist. vol. ii, b, /, chafi^ 7 note K. 

Note 3. — Fn the account which Justin has given, in his 
abridgment of Trogus Pompeius, of Moses, and of the deliver- 
ance of Israel, there is an error, arising from his linking this 
narrative too closely with the history of Joseph, ffor he relates 
this departure in the very same chapter in v/hich he speaks of 
Joseph,) and in his supposing Moses to be the son of Joseph- 
This premised, we subjoin his testimony on these facts. 

JuHt. Hist. lib. xxxvi^ cap. ii. 

"Moses v/as his son, whose beauty of person recommended 
him, no less than his inheritance of his father's science. But 
the Egyptians, because they were afflicted with a scab and lep- 
rosy, admonished by an oracle, expelled him, with the diseased, 
from the borders of Egypt, lest the majady should spread gen- 
erally." 

Note 4.— .Testimony preserved in Diodorus Siculus, re- 
specting the division of the Red Sea. "Among the Ichthyo- 
phagi, the native inhabitants of the spot, a tradition is given, 
which is preserved from their ancestors, that by a great ebb of 
the waters, the whole bosom of the gulf became dry, disclosing 
its weeds, the sea rolling upon the opposite shore. But the 
bare earth having been rendered visible from the very bottom 
of the abyss, the tide returning in its strength, restored tlie pas- 
?rage once more to its former condition. 

DiQd. Sic, lib. Hi, fu li2. 



424 



LECTURE IX. 

Note 1.- — Grotius has distinctly enumerated the testimonies 
from ancient writers, which we mentioned generally: to whicli 
he ha^ added others which we did not produce. He says, respect- 
ing the Orphic verses, "the great Scaliger has mended t6e pas- 
sage, by changing a letter; artd instead of reading the word 
vxoyim, as Eusebiiis, in his Prep. Evan. lib. xiii. cap. 12. quotes 
it from Aristobulus, he bids us read it u<f'>^v»?"— (5or« of the ivaler. 
His quotation from Strabo is not inserted here, because, while 
his testimony to the great character of Moses is decisive, he 
lias mingled the fable of tradition so entirely with his evidence, 
that the passage would not be worthy the room it would occu- 
py in this note. It is in his xvi. book. There is a remarka- 
ble testimony in Diodorus Siculus, in the first book of his history, 
comprised in a single sentence. He had been speaking of 
those who assert that the gods \vere the authors of their laws — 

and adds, Tntg^ laS'sUois Si Mao-^v T5V Tat/nr iTTDcctxajLiivov 0sov— ^5 MoseSy 

ivho^ among the Jewsy called God, i«^nr flno.J Grotius quotes 
this passage also, and says, that by i*-^ flno.J mm (Jehovah,) 
is intended; and that the name was so pronounced, "by the ora- 
cles, in the Orphic verses, by the Basilidian heretics, and oth- 
er Gnostics;" also, with little variation, "by the Tyrians.*' 
These quotations, with his important remarks, are to be found 
in his truth of the Christian Religion: book i. sect. 16. notes 
83— lOi. 

Note 2. Testimony of Josephus, to the early settlement of 
the Jews in Canaan. Thus far* Manetheo. Therefore estimat- 
ing the time from the beginning of those years, (alluding to some 
foregoing calculations according to Manetho's history) it ivill 
■apfiear, that our ancestors, ivhom they call shepherds, migrated 
from EgypJ, and inhabited this country, 393 years b^ore Dana- 
us came to Argos, nvhich is nevertheless celebrated by the 
Greeks for antiquity. Josephus adds, "that two things are 
evident from Manetho's account: first, that the Jews came^ from 
another place to Egypt: secondly, that they left them again, 
Siwd. that nearly a thousand years before the Trojan war.*' 
Lowth says, that this calculation is double the true distaljce of 
time between these events. However, the establishm.ent of 



421 



i\iQ Jews in Canaan, i$ much earlier than any Grecian writer, 
or history. See Jose/ihus, Jp/iion, To?n. IL lib, i. fi. 1339. 
Hudsont edit. 

LECTURE X. 

Note 1 It would have been foreign from the immediate 

object of the preceding Lecture, to have entered into any dis- 
cussion of the appearance of Samuel to Saul: but I cannot for- 
bear entering my individual protest against the opinions, either 
that the sorceress made some person in her interest personate 
the apparition of the prophet, or that some demon attempted 
such a personification. I believe that it was indeed the spirit 
of Samuel — and I shall subjoin, as the best illustration of my 
own views, the following able testimonies. 

The ingenious writers of the Encyclopedia Brittannica. 
reason thus— ^ 

"Some have thought there was nothing more than a trick, 
by which a cunning woman imposed upon Saul's credulity, 
making him believe that some confident of her own was the. 
ghost of Samuel. But had that been the case, she would un- 
doubtedly have made the pretended Samuel's answer, as pleas- 
ing to the king as possible, both to save her own life, which 
appears from the context to have been in danger, and likewise 
to have procured the larger reward. She would never have 
told her sovereign, she durst not have told him, that he himself 
should be shortly slain, and his sons with him; and that the host 
of Israel should be delivered into the hand of the Philistines.* 
For this reason many critics, both Jewish and Christian, have 
supposed that the apparition was really a demon, or evil angel, 
by whose assistance the woman was accustomed to work won- 
ders, and to foretel future events. But it is surely very incred- 
ible, that one of the apostate spirits of hell, should have up- 
braided Saul for applying to a sorceressy or should have accost- 
ed him in such words as these: 'Why hast thou disquieted me 
to bring me up? Wherefore dost thou ask of tne^ seeing the 
Lord is departed from thee, and is become thine enemy? For 
the Lord hath rent the kingdom out of thine hand, and given it 
to thy neighbor, even to David. Because thou obeyedst not 

•It was impossible that she could have preju^^^'ed the event of a bat- 
tle than which nothing is more uncertain, 

54 



Am 

th^ voice of the Loi^d, therefore the Zorrf hath done this thing te 
thee this d^y.* It is to be observed farther, that what was 
here denounced against Saul was really prophetic, and that 
the event answered to the prophecy in every particular. Now. 
though we do not deny that there are created spirits of pene- 
triiton vastly superior to that of the most enlarged human 
understanding; yet we dare maintain, that no finite intelligence 
could by its own mere capacity have ever found out the precise 
time of the two armies ejigaging, the success of the Philistines, 
the consequences of the victory, and the very names of the 
persons that were to fall in the battle. Saul and his sons vrere 
indeed men of tried bravery, and therefore likely to expose 
themselves to the greatest danger; but after the menaces 
which he received from the apparition, he would have been im- 
pelled, one should think, by common prudence, either to chi- 
cane with the enemy, or to retire from the field without ex- 
posing himself, his sonsp and the whole army to certain and in- 
evitable destruction; and bis acting differently, with the con- 
sequences of his conduct, were events which no limited under- 
standing could either foresee or certainly foretel. If to these 
circumstances we add the suddenness of Samuel's appear- 
ance, with the effect which it had upon the sorceress herself, 
we shall find reason to believe that the apparition was that of 
no evil demon. There is not, we believe, upon record, anoth- 
er instance of any person's pretending to raise a ghost from 
below, without previously using some magical rites, or some 
form of incantation. As nothing of that kind is mentioned in 
the case before us, it is probable that Samuel appeared before 
he was called. It is likewise evident from the narrative, that 
the apparition was not what the woman expected; for we are told 
that when sbe saw Samuel, she cried out for fear. And when 
the king exhorted her not to be afraid, and -asked what she 
saw, Hhe woman said, I see gods (elohimj ascending out of 
the earth.* Now, had she been accustomed to do such feats, 
and knowQ that what she saw was only her subservient demon, 
it is not conceivable that she cauld have been so frightened, or 
have mistaken her faitiiliar for elohim in any sense in which 
that word can be taken. We are therefore strongiy inclined to 
adopt the opinion of those who hold that it was Samuel him- 
self who appeared and prophecied, not called up by the wretch- 
ed v/oman ©r her demons, but, to her utter confusion, and the 



42$ 

disgrace of her art, «ent by God to rebuke Saul's madness in ^ 
most affecting and mortifying way, and to deter all others from 
ever applying to magicians or demons for assistance when re- 
fused comfort from Heaven. For though this hypothesis may, 
to a superficial thinker, seem to transgress the rule of Horace 
..^nec Deus intersit^ &c.~which is as applicable to the interpre«' 
tation of scripture, as to the introduction of supernatural agenc^ 
in human compositions; yet he who has studied the theo- 
cratical constitution of Israel, the nature of the office 
which v/as there termed regal, and by what means the admin- 
istration was in emergencies conducted, will have a different 
opinion, and at once perceive the dignus vindice nodus.** 

Encyc. Brit. Voly X. fit, ii. art. Magic, 
Of the Same opimon is the pious Mr. Hehvey— 
**l Sam. xxviii, 19. — .On this place the Dutch translator of 
the Meditations has added a note; to correct, very probably, 
what he supposes a mistake. On the same supposition, I pre- 
sume, the compilers of our Rubric ordered the last verse of 
Eccles. xlvi, to be omitted, in the daily service of the Chureh. 
But that the sentiment, himed above," (an opinion coinciding 
with that just stated) "is strictly true; that it was ^^TbKifta? 
Samuel himself (not an infernal spirit, personating the proph^ 
et) who appeared to the female necromancer at Endor; appear^, 
ed not in compliance with any diabolical incantation, but in 
pursuance of the divine commission; this, I think, is fully 
proved in the Historical account of the life of Daviij, 
vol. I. chap. 23." 

Heyvey*8 Medit. Vol. I. fi- 250' notes. HefitinstaWs edit. 

Note 2.— In the translation of David's lamentation over Jona- 
athan, I have not departed from the literal rendering of our 
own Bible, but where it appeared to me that the reading was 
amended or elucidated by the alteration. In rendering the 
21st verse, "there the shield of the mighty is vilely cast away, 
the shield of Saul, the armor of the anointed with oii;*' 1 have 
followed the translation of Dr. Geddes: who has the following 
note on the word ,'armour** — "From the small change of one 
letter into another, of a very similar form, arises this opposite 
rendering. Interpreters made a shift to translate the present 
text thus: as if he had not been anointed mth oil. By "what rules 
of translation I know not." His translation of this lamentation 
is singularly beautiful, throughout. He renders th^ begiinung 



424 

of it— -"O antelofie of Israel! pierced on thine own mountains!" 
This rendering is correctly literal: but as the word '3^n also 
signifies ornamentumy* I have preferred tlie rendering"© beauty 
of Israel, Sec." as in the Lecture. 

Note 3. — ^Testimony of Menander, the historian, to the 
drought in the days of Elijah, preserved by Josephus; 
►—"Menander also notes this defect of rain in the acts of Itho- 
bal, king of the Tyrians, speaking thus: "'There was a defi. 
ciency of rain from the month of October, until October in the 
succeeding year. But he indeed praying there followed much 
thunder. He built the city of Botrys in Phenicia, and Auza in 
Lybia ** And certainly he relates these things of the drought 
which happened in the time of Ahab, for aj: that time Ithobal 
DID reign over the Tyrians, as Menander himself writes." 

Josefih. Antiq. Jud. J'om, I. lib. viii, cafi. xiiiy fi. 378. Hiidsoni 
edit. 

Testimonies of Julian and of Cyprian, quoted by Grotius, 
relative to the fire which consumed the sacrifice of Elijah. Ju- 
lianus in libro Cyrilli decimo. 

e?rt MaiTieec ratg d'ucriit( a.vetM(rKOV et/urat^ THro sTTt Mcecrm? iytvQo, kai s/rt Ha,/« th QixrQira 

';rctKiv fAtrra. ttoxkhc ;t§<"'«? — Vide sequentia de igne coelesti; Cyprianus 
Testimoniorum III. Item in sacrificiis quaecunque accepta 
habebat Deus, descendebat ignis de coelo qui sacrificata con- 
sumeret." "Julian in the tenth book of Cyril: 'Ye refuse to 
bring sacrifices to the altar, and to present them, because that 
fire does not descend from heaven to consume the victims, as 
in the time of Moses. This happened indeed to Moses, and 
long after also to Elijah the Tishbite."* See what follows 
also concerning the fire from heaven; Cyprian, in the Third 
of their Testimonies, says — ."'That in the sacrifices, what 
soever had acceptance with God, fire came down from heaven 
which consumed the things offered." 

Grotius dc Ver. Relig, Christ, sect, xvi, not. 106. 

®See Taylor's Hebrew Concordance on the word ?73« 



425 
LECTURE XL 

Note 1.— See page 298, 

Note 2.~Testimony of Menander to the character and acts 
of Shalmaneser, preserved in Josephus, and translated in this 
Lecture. 

Note 3 — The following description of the temple of Belus 
is extracted frorn the writers of the Ancient Universal History, 
vol. I. book i. chap 2, page 417. Dublin edit. 1745. It i« neces- 
sary to mention the edition when a reference is made to the 
page, because there are several editions which differ materially 
in this respect. 

"Herodotus tells us, it was a furlong in length, and as much 
in breadth; and Strabo determines the height to have been a 
furlong, that is, the eighth part of a mile, or six hundred and 
sixty feet, which is itself prodigious; for thereby it appears to 
have exceeded the greatest of the Egyptian pyramids in height, 
one hundred and seventy-nine feet, though it fell short of it at 
the base by thirty-three. It consisted of eight square towers 
one above another, gradually decreasing in breadth; which, with 
the winding of the stairs from the top to the bottom on the out- 
side, gave it the resemblance of a pyramid, as Strabo calls it. 
This antique form, joined to the extraordinary height of the 
structure, easily induces us to believe it to be the same tower 
mentioned by Moses; Nebuchadnezzar finishing the design, 
which the sons of Noah were obliged, by the confusion of 
tongues, to leave unexecuted." And again they add in a note: 
*'The words of Herodotus are: 'Ev y-^'^^ ^^ ^cw /§» Trvgyog crje^meg oiKoJ'ofxii<rcu, 

(rlobSm KdLi ro /xmoi wti to iu^og, iuu VTti TXTa tm 7rugya> akkoi; Ttv^yoc eTTtCiCuKi, kbu 

iTigog fxdKit ari nsTa, f^^xi'^ °" '"''^^ Trie^yav. "Jn the midst of the temple a 
solid tower is built, of a furlong in length and as much in 
breadth; and upon this tower another tower is erected, and 
another again upon that, and so on to the number of eight 
towers.* It is true, the word fAnno? which we here translate 
lengthy may also signify height:, but some authors having thence 
supposed, as the construction seems to require, that the first 
tower was a furlong high, and concluding the other seven to be 
pf equal height, have made the whole a mile high; to avoid 
which extravagant consequence, it seems more reasonable to 



426 

understand Herodotus as we have rendered the passage, unless 
the furlong be taken for the height of all the eight towers." 
And it appears to me that the construction of the passage will 
not allow this last conclusion: for whether the word ^xocbe ren- 
dered height or lengthy it evidently refers to ihtjirst tower; and 
it is expressly said that "another was built upon this'* — and so 
on. I conclude, therefore, that these words of Herodotus refer 
to its length, and its breadth, without adverting at ail to its 
height, which Strabo says was also a furlong. According to 
this last mentioned author it was exactly a furlong every way. 

Note 4.-^See page 313. 

Note 5. — Seventy years had been predicted as the term of 
the captivity of Judah. Some have computed from the fourth 
year of Jehoiakim to the first issuing of Cyrus' decree. Others 
from the destruction of Jerusalem to the publication of Darius' 
decree, in the fourth year of his reign. The discussion of this 
point is immaterial: since either way seventy years were accom- 
plished, ^jf 

The writers of the Ancient Univ. Hist, date it from the first 
taking of the city in the reign of Jehoiakim, and they say, in a 
note, "This Usher proves to have happened in the ninth month, 
from the anniversary fast, which the Jews have kept ever since 
in memory of that calamity. This is the more worth observing, 
because the seventy years cafitivity foretold by Jeremiah^ must 
be reckoned from this e/iocha.** 

Note 6. — The following description of the Simoom is given 
in Bruce's Travels, vol. vi, p. 461, 462, Edinburgh 8vo. edit, of 
1804. He says, "that an extreme redness in the air was a sure 
presage of the coming of the Simoom." And his conductor 
through the desert warned him and his servants "that upon the 
coming of the Simoom" they "should fall upon their faces, 
with their mouths upon the earth, so as not to partake of the 
outward air, as long as they could hold their breath." And he 
thus describes its fearful approach and effects. *'At eleven 
o'clock, while we contemplated with gre^t pleasure the rugged 
top of Chiggre, to which we v/ere fast approaching, and where 
we were to solace ourselves with plenty of good water, Idris 
cried out with a loud voice, Fall upon your faces, for here is the 



427 

simoom! I saw from the south-east a haze come, in color like 
the purple part of the rainbow, but not so compressed or thick. 
It did not occupy twenty yards in breadth, and was about twelve 
feet high from the ground. It was a kind of blush upon the air, 
and it moved very rapidly, for I scarce could turn to fall upon 
the ground with my head to the northward, when I felt the heat 
of its current plainly upon my face. We all lay flat upon the 
ground, as if dead, till Idris told us it was blown over. The 
meteor, or purple haze, which I saw, was indeed passed, but the 
Ught air that still blew was of heat to threaten suffocation. For 
my part, I found distinctly in my breast that I had imbibed a 
part of it, nor was I free of an asthmatic sensation till I had 
been some months in Italy, at the baths of Poretta, near two 
years afterwards.'* 

Note 7. — We do not sufficiently consider under whose direc- 
tion are the desolations of the earth, and by whose permission 
the^ hero conquers. Jeremiah awfully unveils the cause of Ju- 
dah's and Israel's calamities, when he says, "The Lord was an 
enemy: he hath swallowed up Israel, he hath swallowed up all 
her palaces; he hath destroyed his strong holds, and hath in- 
creased in the daughter of Judah mourning and lamentation^ 
And he hath violently taken away his tabernacle, as if it were 
of a garden, he hath destroyed his places of the assembly: the 
Lord hath caused the solemn feasts and sabbaths to be forgotten 
in Zion, and hath despised in the indignation of his anger the 
king and the priest." Lamentations ii^ 5, 6. 

And this reminds me .of a most beautiful passage in Virgil 
in which the poet represents the deities engaged in the subver- 
sion of Troy. 

"Here, where you behold bulwarks cast down, and stones 
rent from stones, and waving smoke mingling with dust, Nep- 
tune shakes the walls, and the heaving foundations, with his 
great trident, and overthrows the whole city from its bases. 
There*, Juno, the most inexorable, occupies the Scasan gates, 
and girded with a sword, calls the raging army of the allies 
from their ships. Then behold Tritonian Pallas sits upon the 
highest citadels, effulgent on a cloud, and with her terrible 
aegis. Jupiter himself supplies courage, and renewed forces ^ ^ 
to the Grecians; himself stirs up the gods against the Trojan \ 
arms!" 



428 



LECTURE XII. 

Note 1 — see page 325. 

Note 2. — I have translated "tTp^ev xa^ avth tov aoIs^a i mAVAroAn 
-—We of the East have seen his star^ — -referring the 
term East, not to the part of the heavens in which the 
star appeared, but to tlie country whence they came. J believe 
that I am not alone in this translation; and if I mistake not, this, 
or a very similar one, is the rendering of Dr. Cambell, in his 
new translation of the gospels. Another explanation is offered 
by Poole in his learned and laborious Synopis — which is, We 
have his star at its rising; and he adds, that the Greek astrono- 
mer use the term n-vAToy» to imply the rising of any heavenly 
body, andcTyr/f for its setting. Thus the pas«sage may mean — . 
we saw this star from its very first appearance, at the moment 
when it began to shine in the heavens; and its position appear- 
ed to us to mark its relation to Judea. And this learned 
writer, moreover, informs us, that the professors of astrology 
(and such perhaps were these Magi) were accustomed to assign 
certain spaces of the heavens, in their calculations, to certain 
correspondent regions of the earth. ^^ Ad ex or turn ejus, sive, 
guem oriretur: Hue facit, I quod Grsecis astronomis ortus Stella- 
turn dicitUP etvAraynt et, vntoKn (ut Ava.rrox» nxm, ortus solis, ApOC. 7 2. 
et occasus earum, ^^^''' 2 quod oriensi sicut et occidens, plur 
num. AVAToKctt. et, a^uo-y-t, plerumque exprimuntur. Matt. 8, 11 
et 24, 27, Luc. 13 29. Credibile est, apparuisse banc stellam in 
ea cceli parte, quae consensu a^trologorum ad Judaeam pertinuit, 
utsolent ab ejus artis professoribus terrarum regiones certis 
coeli spatiis ascribi: Quse dico,non quod superstitiosis ariolation- 
ibus patrocinari cupiam, sedquod arbitrer Deum itares dispon- 
ere, ut ea, quae, sive jure, sive injuria, magni apud homines 
fiunt, interdum trahat in veri testimonium." 

Fol Synofi. Crit, Tom. IV in Matt, cafu ii, 2. 

Note 3 — Testimonies of Pliny and of Chalcidius, relative to 
the appearance of this luminous body: The passages are thus 
extracted and quoted by the author whose remarks form the 
substance of the former note. ^ 

Hue et illud Plinii, (qui ex obseura fama auditum refert, 
qua de re scripsit, ipse ignorans) qui "apparuisss aliquando" 
^cribit *'Cometam candidum, argenteu criae ita refulgentem, ut 



433 

Vix contueri licuerit, specieque humana Deieffigiem insc psten- 
dentem.*' 

Testimonium Chalcidii Platonici (modo^vw-tov sit) apposi- 
tura est, "Sane notanda est," inquit,*' alia sanctior et venerabil- 
ior historia, quse perhibet de onu siellse cujusdam, non morbos 
mortesque denuneiantem, sed descensum Dei venerabilis ad bu- 
manse conversationis, rerumque mortalium, gratiam; quam 
steilam cum nocturno itinere suspexissent Chaldseorum pro- 
fecto sapientes viri, et consideratione rerum coelestium satis 
exercitati, qusisse dicuntur recentis Dei ortum, repertaqee il- 
ia Maj estate pueril, venerati esse, et vota Deo tanto conveni- 
entia nuncupasse." 

Foli Synofisis Crit, Tom. IV. in Matt, cap. ii, 2. 

Josephus migbt well add, that he was a man "totally alien- 
ated from humanity"— -and express his surprise that his thirst 
©f blood should remain in those last moments, when most men 
are disposed to bury even the injuries which they have receiv- 
ed in eternal oblivion! His family had the humanity to break 
their vow to him; and immediately upon his death set their 
illustrious prisoners at liberty. 

Note 5.— Testimony of Josephus to the life, the sufferings, 
and the resurrection of Jesus Christ: as also of the unshaken 
attachment of his followers to him. 

Jos. de Antiq. Jud. lorn. II. lib.xviii^ cap., 4,/2. 798. Hudsoni 
edition. 

Some have affirmed that this passage is interpolated: and it is 
always easy to make affirmations, and to raise objections. The 
following reasons have always satisfied my mind that it is genu- 
ine. 1. It accords well with its connexion, and forms a link 
with the other parts of the narrative. 2. It agrees in point of 
time with the facts narrated along with it. 3. It is such a tes- 
timony as might be c^ipected from such a man as Josephus: 
neither enlarged upon with the partiality of friendship (for he 
was a Jew, and not a Christian) nor disfigured to blot the fi,del- 
ity of the historian: but related with a conciseness which shews 
him unwilling to keep back any part of the fact, yet unable to 
account for the extraordinary circumstances attending it. 4. It 
would have been a marvellous thing indeed, if Josephus, who 
died within 93 years after Christ, and who professed to write 
^5 



434 

everything worthy recording relative to the Jewish nation, both 
in its former state, and in the degradation to which it had sunk in 
his days; should have omitted to speak of an event, nearly con- 
temporary with himself, which was in every one's mouth, which 
excited such a ferment in his own nation; and while a new sect, 
springing from this very event, attracted the notice and the 
persecntionofboth Jews and Gentiles, and boldly, persevering- 
ly, successfully, disseminated their tenets around him. 5. Ori- 
gen, who flourished about 200 years after Christ, appeals to this 

testimony when he says,. E'v >«§ t» cx-TcescAtSiKstla) mg lai'sUKH? a.^-)(!ttoKAyttt; 
la)Tirii7ro(, &c. o S'sLurog, itcti Totyi ctm'flm ^roe lifera a^X^icflo), &c. 

Orig-. coTitra Cels. lib.i^p, 35. Cantab, edit. 1677. 

Note 6 — Testimonies of Justin Martyr, and of Tertulian, 
to the facts of the life, the death, and the resurrection of Christ. 

Justin Martyr, speaking of the parting of our Lord's 
vesture, 8cc. appeals to the acts of Pilate then extant. 

As TauTst cTi yiyovi, ShvAo-^s /ua^uv at- rruv iTTi Hovlia HikslJh yivcfjiivm eturm. 

Just. Martyr, J/ioL prima, p. 56, Thirlbii. edit, 1722. 

This Apology was addressed to the emperor Antoninus Pius. 

Again, he challenges Crescens to a public contest on the 
merits of Christianity before the Roman senaie. k*/ ct/ 4tx«S-» Ae^^at, 

il fxh Av»Vi)(^i;(rcty ufji.iv eii KOivaviM Tcev KoyooVy irolfAog kcli tp v/iACcv KOivcevuv Tcev i^ceTatraev 

TTSiKlV /SucriKlKOV eT CtV KV.I TSTO igyOV Uif. 

Just. Martyr. ApoL secunda^p. 132, Thirlbii edit. 1722. 

This apology was addressed to the Roman senate. Epipha- 
nius also speaks of the acts of Pilate, and is quoted by the learn- 
ed and accurate Grotius. See Grot, de Ver. Rel. Christ, lib. 
ii, sect, ii, in not. 5. 

Tertullian thus speaks of the opinion which Tiberias had 
formed of Christ, and of Christianity, from the authentic records 
which he had received from Palestine, respecting him: 

Tiberius ergo, cujus tempore nomen Christianum in secu- 
lum intravit, annuntiata sibi ex Syria Palssstina quae illic veri- 
tatem istius divinitatis revelarai"Jt detulit ad senatum cum-prse- 
rogativa suffragii sui. Senatus, quia non ipse probaverat, res- 
puit: Csesarin sententia mansit, comminatus periculum accus- 
atoribus Christianorum. — Consulite commentarios vestros! 

Tertiill. Apologet. p. 6. Lutet. edit. 1634. 

He explains why the will of the emperor alone could not 
prevail to enrol Christ among the number of the gods, to which 



435 

he was so decidedly inclined— Vetus erat decretum, ne qift 
deus ab imperatore consecraretur, nisi a senatu probatus. 
There tvas an ancient decree that no god should be consecrated 
by the emfieror, unless apfiroved by the senate. TertuUian 
"vvould not have dared, at that time, to have affirmed these 
things, had they not been true: much less would he have 
thrown out the challenge, ^'■Consult your records!'* 

Note 7. — Origen nicntions Phlegon*s testimony to the 
darkness at our Lord's crucifizion, as also to the earthquake. 

)t*/ TTipt T(ev /uiyttKcev tots yivofxivm miT(Am t^c ^«f, etv^git-^i kai (pxiyocv iv t® 
TptO-X.ittSiKSi'TCt) ciy.cti Tceo Xpov/k&'V. 

Orig. contra Ccls.fi. 80. Cantab, edit. 1677. 

Note 8.— To what has been translated from Pliny in 
the Lecture, may be added his testimony of the rapid spread of 
Christianity. 

"Many of every age, of every rank, and of both sexes, were 
brought into danger. The contagion of this superstition had 
spread, not into cities merely, but also into villages, and into 
fields. The temples were nearly desolate. The most sacred 
rites for some time were suspended. And scarcely any one 
was found to purchase victims for them. 

Plin. Efiist, lib. sc. efiist. 97. 

LECTURE XIII. 

It would be a very easy thing to produce evidences from all 
contemporary historians of the sufferings of the apostles, of 
their unshaken firmness, and of the undiminished and resistless 
attractions of Christianity; but we shall content ourselves with 
the selection of a few. 

Tacitus relates the fact of the persecution raised against the 
Christians by Nero, and describes it as attended by **circum- 
stances of the utmost rigor and cruelty.'* 

Tacit. Annal. lib. xv, cap. 44. 

Suetonius bears the same testimony to the sufferings of these 
primitive saints, when he says, "The Christians were severely 
punished — a class of men devoted to a novel and mischievous 
superstition." 

Suet. Kero Claud. Cas. cup. xvi. 

Pliny describes their worship, while he condemns what he 
calls their obstinacy, and confesses that they were harmless in 



436 

their deportment. *'They were accustomed," he says, "t© as- 
semble, and to sing hymns to Christ, as to God." Solhi essent 
convenire, carmenque Christo quasi Deo dicere* 

Plin. in JSjiist, 

An ancient superstition, the worship of Jesus Christ as God 
is, if it be indeed what it is represented by Unitarians-^ 
idolatry! 

The ancient fathers bear the same testimony with these pro- 
fane historians: and they indeed shared the calamities which 
they described- Justin Martyr says — "So far from repenting; 
of your sins" (in crucifying the Savior) "ye sent men of distin- 
guished talents through every land, to represent Christians as 
atheists, and to disseminate in their discourses all those evil re- 
ports of us which those have raised who knew us not!" 

JusL Mart, Dial, cum Tryfih. p. 171. Thirlbl 

Yet, amid all this virulence of opposition, the cause of Chris- 
tianity grew; and while their enemies raved, "To the lions with 
them," the whole world beheld them rising on every side as 
willing to suffer, as their adversaries were eager to aflflict. But 
we shall say nothing further. If any man desires a confirma- 
tion of the preceding Lecture, he has only to read Justin Mar- 
tyr, and Tertullian. 

LECTURE XIV. 

We have described the sun as a body of fire. Such it has 
long been considered: but modern astronomy has shaken this 
opinion of antiquity. The ingenious Dr. Herchel supposes "that 
it is an opaque body surrounded by an atmosphere of aphosphoric 
nature, composed of various transparent and elastic fluids, by 
the decomposition of which light is produced, and lucid appear- 
ances formed of different degrees and intensity." And he con- 
cludes that it is even probably an inhabited world. We venture 
not to hazard an opinion upon this novel hypothesis: the name of 
Dr. Herschel ranks high in the department of literature which 
ne has chosen. But may I be permitted to recommend to the at- 
tention of young persons, studying the principles of astronomy, 
"Gregory^s Lessons Astronomical and Philosophical." — from 
which the above statement is extracted? They are familiar and 
instructive, amusing and scientific, at one and the same time. 

THE J£KI>. 



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